


Confessions

by rosedarkling



Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogeko, Okegom, funamusea, 廃れ夢 | Obsolete Dream, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Choking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Suffering, Too much suffering, Torture, too much drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: A simple evening can so easily turn one's life upside down in disastrous ways. Confessions of past sins can destroy the present. This a story of confusion, lust, and pain.
Relationships: Ivlis & Licorice (Gray Garden), Ivlis/Satanick (Gray Garden)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79





	1. Father and Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to all my friends that have given me such good insight into the characters of Satanick and Licorice so I can try to write them better. 
> 
> And a shout out to my new friend Sav who helped inspire this idea to get a move on with the good ol' drama. 
> 
> Obvious trigger warnings are going to apply with this one, so enjoy this simple first chapter before it all goes down. :P 
> 
> Thank you all for the support and love! :)

The day in this world might have been quite bright in comparison to the Flame Underworld, but Licorice was still not thrilled about having to visit the Pitch Black World. The tall yet thin son of this world’s ruling devil sighed as he trudged up the stone steps of his father’s castle. The dark exterior of such a place with its twisted spirals that were reminiscent of thorns only made Licorice think further of just who he was on his way to see. Yes, it was his father – the “magnificent” devil lord, Satanick – but Licorice still did not like to be around his presence too much. After all, despite him now becoming more loving and caring to Mother, Licorice still did not fully trust him. The man seemed to be making some conscious effort to get Ivlis’s attention, though, Licorice didn’t quite approve of it. After all, Mother was fragile; he could see that, and he did not want Ivlis getting hurt because of Satanick’s shenanigans and mishaps.

Trying to dispel these foul, moody thoughts from his head, Licorice flung open the large wooden doors of the castle. The sound echoed down the large main hall that split into several directions to other hallways and parts of this massive castle. Surprisingly, not many others were hanging around in the common area – only a few demons and creatures that Licorice recognized but did not pay much mind to. Some of them included some of his father’s closest subordinates, whom Licorice ignored most of the time. After all, he didn’t have much reason to interact with many of them. He also particularly did not enjoy certain members of his father’s inner circle. Walking past these residents, Licorice continued down the hallway directly in front of him to find his father’s office near the end of the hall, his black and purple cape fluttering behind him. 

Once outside of the office, Licorice turned to the left hand side, staring at the wooden door that housed his father’s office behind it. Taking a deep breath in and shutting his eyes to compose himself, Licorice raised his right hand, knuckles rasping on the wood.

“Come in ~!”

That sing-songy voice of his father’s rang out, still loud even behind the wooden door – though, this door was quite thin compared to that of the front doors of the castle. Taking another deep breath – slightly agitated by his father’s carefree nature – Licorice opened the door, stepping inside the somewhat dimly lit room.

Satanick sat on the front, right edge of his desk, one leg crossed over the other as he scanned his eyes over a document he was holding. Upon seeing that it was Licorice, he immediately smiled, tossing the paper behind him; it fluttered to the floor without a care. Judging by the look on his desk, Satanick must have been busy this day with the amount of papers scattered around haphazardly. That was one thing Licorice did not envy – having to deal with all of the details of being lord over an entire realm. Despite being the son of two devils and inheriting powers from both his parents, Licorice had no interest or desire in the affairs of this particular kingdom. If anything, he preferred living in the Flame Underworld. Sure, it was much more dreary there without as much life, but Mother was there.

Nevertheless, this was his father; Licorice knew it would be wrong to not honor him in the little requests such as visiting him. Though, he was quite skeptical on why Satanick had called him over here like this.

Raising an eyebrow at his father, Licorice placed his left hand on his hip, trying to hide some of his annoyance as much as he could physically muster. “Yes?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“Yes, what?” Satanick asked with a grin, uncrossing his right leg from his left as he stood up. Even with the bit of distance between them, Satanick was only a smidge taller than Licorice. Satanick placed his own left hand on his hip, and Licorice could not help but see the resemblance between this man and himself. It honestly bothered him a bit to see how much he looked like his father in many ways – the dark hair, the purple wings and horns. At least he had his mother’s eyes and mannerisms; well, he would like to think he did.

Licorice couldn’t be sure if his father was dumb or just teasing him at this point. Knitting his eyebrows together in confusion and agitation, Licorice sighed out. “You called me here for what, exactly?” The cocky little grin on Satanick’s face was all the give-away that Licorice needed to know his old man was just teasing him again. How it bothered him to no end that this man did such a thing! He was half-tempted to just turn around and leave at this point before he let his annoyance get the better of him.

“Hey, now, come on, Lico,” Satanick said with a wave of his right hand. “Don’t get so uptight. I just wanted to invite you over to spend a nice evening with your Papa.”

Licorice practically wanted to roll his eyes at hearing him say those words. True enough as the word “Papa” was, Licorice did not appreciate the man using that word; after all, Licorice only used that term when he was in his child form. Still childlike in nature he might be, but Licorice knew well enough that in his adult form, he did not appreciate being talked down to. Still, he would reply to this man. “And why would I want to do that?”

Satanick pursed his lips together in a pout. “Oh, boo! Licorice, you’re no fun!” Turning around momentarily, Satanick bent over to retrieve an object off the floor by the right-hand side of his desk. Licorice peeked around to the left slightly to see what it was before Satanick turned around, proudly holding a bottle of wine in his hands. The way he held it by the nape of the bottle with his right hand and his left hand cradling the bottom of it, Licorice could clearly see the label displaying a cherry on it. Now he really was at a loss; what in the world did this man want?

“I even picked out this nice wine for us to try for dinner. I thought since it was sweet enough, you might like it, since you like sweet things, too, Lico.” Satanick said all this with a cheerful smile on his face as Licorice stood there, blinking in confusion for a few seconds.

“Why in the world did you think I would want to have dinner with you like this?” Licorice had now crossed his arms over his chest, as if in an almost self-protective manner. Sure, he respected his father enough to not impale him upon seeing him – he was grateful the man was being a bit kinder to Mother these days – but Satanick’s bold demeanor had him always feeling so small at times like this; as if he truly was as childlike as he sometimes acted.

Satanick merely waggled the bottle out in front of him with his right hand now. “Pleaassseee, Licorice ~!” he sang out. “Come join Papa for dinner. We really haven’t gotten many chances to do some father-son-bonding.”

Feeling almost ill at such a statement, Licorice closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “I should have known you always have ulterior motives. So, that’s why you called me here today? To spend time with me?” Part of him felt genuinely happy at such a thing – that his father was asking him to spend more time with him; any child should be thrilled at such a prospect. However, even Licorice could see that the way this family operated was nowhere near “normal.”

“Normal” parents didn’t abuse one another. “Normal” parents didn’t allow the father in the relationship to constantly force himself onto the mother when the mother was clearly uncomfortable with it most of the time.

No matter that the efforts of Satanick were becoming more gentle – Licorice still found himself harboring such an odd…resentment towards his father. He cared for him, but he could not forsake this bratty attitude he put up as a front whenever around this man.

Feeling slightly disgusted by all of this – his father’s hidden agenda, and his own attitude – Licorice turned on his heel, arms now resting down at his sides. “Thanks, but I’m busy tonight.” Even he knew what a terrible lie that was as soon as he said it.

Taking one step forward, Licorice heard Satanick behind him calling out, “Hey, come on. If you’re old enough to go to Hidou’s video shop, you’re old enough to share a drink with your dear ol’ dad.”

Licorice immediately tensed up perfectly straight and his cheeks burned bright red. Had he seriously just said what he thought he heard his father say?! Whirling around with malice in his eyes, but embarrassment written across his face, Licorice saw that devilish, cocky smile on his father’s face.

“ H – How did you –?!” Licorice could barely stammer out the rest of his words as he felt his embarrassment leaking through. How did his father know he had gone down to that filthy shop that one time?! _That Hidou!_ he reasoned. _He must have said something to Father about me being there!_ If only that snuff-dealing subordinate had just kept his big mouth shut, then Licorice would have been out of here already! Now, his Father knew he had gone asking for “those types” of videos, lording it over him as if it was blackmail.

“So, that’s what this is?” Licorice scoffed out. “You’re blackmailing me?” He clenched his fists together, worried that the next thing he would say would only dig him into a further hole. But he had to confirm his suspicions. “What now? Are you going to tell Mother about this?” He honestly did not want Ivlis knowing about this; it would be too humiliating and awkward to ever look him in the face if Mother found out he had watched that filth.

There was just some things that Mother should never know about….

“Blackmail?” Satanick slightly tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Oh, heaven’s no! I wasn’t thinking about that in the slightest, Licorice.” That made the boy feel slightly better – but only for a split second. The toothy grin and mischievous glimmer in his father’s eyes - Licorice could feel a slight shiver down his back seeing his father give him that look. “But I am curious what Ivlis would think if he found out.” Satanick shrugged. “He probably wouldn’t care, but who knows? Mothers can be quite different than fathers with this type of thing.”

Licorice could feel his face heating up even more as he now gritted his teeth in humiliation. He wouldn’t dare…! Then again, this was Satanick he was dealing with; Licorice wouldn’t put it past him to tell Ivlis that his son went to ask for a sexual video like that. Sure, he was certainly old enough to understand that type of thing, he supposed, but it was still highly embarrassing for him to imagine his mother finding out this information about him. He was not thrilled that Satanick now knew this about him, but he sincerely did not want Ivlis to know about it. Mother was too important and special of a person to Licorice for him to risk Ivlis looking at him with any amount of disgust.

Slightly shaking from his anger and being backed into a corner like this, Licorice mumbled out with a snap, “F – Fine! I’ll have dinner with you, alright?! When do you want me here?”

“Oh, goodie!” Satanick cheered, lifting his arms into the air. At this rate, Licorice was worried the man would drop the wine to shatter to the floor. Thankfully, Satanick lowered his arms and placed it onto his desk. He clapped his hands together in front of his chest, as if in victory. “I’ll make sure everything is to your liking, Lico! I’m excited to get to spend more time with you. Make sure you’re back here by nightfall. We’ll dine in my room.”


	2. Sweet and Sour

Satanick hummed to himself as he placed the last few dishes on the round table in his room. As he stood straight up again, he looked ahead through his balcony doors to see the purple sky of the evening settling into a light black as the stars began to come out. A peaceful and fun night. Honestly, he was quite thrilled that Licorice had complied so easily with him to have dinner with him; though, he did suppose he used that knowledge of Licorice at Hidou’s shop as leverage. He chuckled to himself, remembering how red Licorice got when he mentioned that. Satanick did not actually care that Licorice had gone to check out those types of videos Hidou had made. In fact, he was honestly curious which one Licorice had chosen, since Hidou didn’t reveal his patrons “tastes.” Thinking of Licorice now grown up enough to partake in that stuff gave Satanick a bit of a proud feeling – like his little boy was growing up. Plus, he was able to get to spend some time with his ornery son, albeit it with some light trickery on his part.

As Satanick let out another chuckle, he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. Turning on his heel, Satanick peeked over his right shoulder. Speak of the devil – Licorice had arrived just on time. He listened, too – he hadn’t dressed too formally in his usual cape. Just his simple long sleeve, white, button-up shirt and black pants he usually wore under his black dress jacket. Satanick couldn’t help but think how much they looked alike in the same type of attire. Truly, this boy was the spitting image of Ivlis and him combined.

Smiling gleefully, Satanick turned fully to face his son, spreading his left arm out over the table. “Ta-da! I made us a little of everything, Licorice. Main course, side dishes, and even desert – your favorite meal.” He winked, knowing that the sweetly named boy had the biggest sweet tooth in the family.

With lips tightly pressed together, Licorice nodded, his right hand awkwardly clutching at his left arm. Satanick’s wide smile faded a bit; perhaps he was being too overenthusiastic to the boy’s liking. Giving a gentle smile instead, Satanick waved Licorice over. “No need to be so uptight, Lico. Come, sit down with me.” He gestured to the seat opposite his at the table. Satanick turned around, soon taking his seat in the tall-backed and purple-cushioned chair. Licorice soon followed suit, and Satanick smiled seeing his son finally sitting down across from him. Just when had been the last time they truly had a family meal together, let alone any father and son time?

As Satanick tried to recall the past when they would sit together, he began filling up his own plate with a variety of meat, vegetables, and side dishes. He supposed the last time he could recall was when Licorice was still fairly young and new to the world. Ivlis would sit with Licorice on his lap while Satanick sat next to them; he had wanted to be close to both of them, after all. With a smile recalling those moments, Satanick took notice of Licorice filling up his plate with the deserts. The fatherly side of him felt like he should correct him, but he merely stifled back a laugh.

Licorice paused as he scooped up a slice of apple pie onto his plate. He raised an eyebrow at the clearly snickering devil across from him. “What’s your problem?”

Satanick wanted to laugh even harder now, but he simply held it back to a light chuckle. “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he tried to reassure Licorice. Placing his own plate down in front of him, Satanick reached forward to the wine that was sitting slightly up from the center of the table. With a push of his right thumb, Satanick popped the cork out with ease and letting it fall to the floor, pouring himself a tall glass. He held it out, an open invitation to Licorice. “Well, want some? I did say you’re more than old enough for this type of thing.”

Licorice had raised a piece of pie on his fork to his mouth, pausing now as Satanick offered him the beverage. “You…think I should?” He couldn’t quite figure out if he should or not. After all, he had never touched alcohol before. Sure, he was more than old enough, but he just never had the desire for it. Truth be told, he still felt a bit immature at times to even participate in that sort of thing. Then again, he HAD gone to that shop in town….

“Sure, why not?” Licorice said, finally taking that bite of apple pie. They said alcohol was supposed to help people relax, right? He sure hoped so; he hated feeling so tense. It was only dinner with the man, but he still felt a bit awkward around his own father. Surprisingly, the pie was quite good and sweet. Had Satanick really prepared all this by himself?

Satanick gave a soft smile as he reached over to pour Licorice a glass of wine. The boy’s golden orange eyes watched the glass fill fairly to the top, and he couldn’t help but think of blood upon seeing the color. Internally, he groaned; why was that the first thing he thought of? Had he just seen too much in his lifetime? Then again, the worlds he inhabited were filled with nothing but devils and demons; blood was a liquid that was seen a bit too frequently in these parts. Shaking these thoughts off, he swallowed down more of his deserts, hoping these thoughts wouldn’t make him ill. He soon decided to reach out and take hold of the thin stem of the wine glass. He carefully brought it up to his lips, sniffing at it. He could definitely smell the alcohol part of it, but the cherry scent had him intrigued. Tilting the glass to his lips, Licorice took a tiny sip of the foreign substance. The tang of the alcohol hit his tongue first before it was coated with sweetness. He felt the strange, warm, and almost rough sensation of the beverage sliding down his throat. What a strange combination of something sweet and almost tangy.

He must have made a face at this since Satanick gave a small laugh. “It’s strange for your first time, right, Licorice?” He honestly found it adorable the way his son scrunched up his face in a mildly unpleasant expression, as if trying to determine what he was tasting and feeling as it worked its way into his system.

Feeling slightly embarrassed once more at Satanick mocking him, Licorice took another drink. This stuff was supposedly “good for the nerves;" well, he had some to settle then this evening. Something told him that this was going to be a long night spent with his father.

When Satanick opened his mouth to begin asking Licorice how he was doing, what was new in the Flame world, etcetera, etcetera, Licorice knew his suspicions were confirmed. He continued to eat what he found appealing as he answered Satanick’s questions. The more he ate, he noticed the more he drank. The sweet flavor was quite appealing to his sweet palette. And it seemed to help him ease up enough to not be so on-edge around his father. He even found it almost…easier to answer Satanick’s random questions whenever he asked them among his own ramblings about what he had been up to lately – something about tinkering around with new inventions and the occasional “pranks” he would play on his subordinates.

“One time, I picked up Envi by the horns to dangle him around like a little puppet,” Satanick laughed, placing down his fork onto the white china plate. “Crea found it so hilarious. That was so long ago – but still funny till this day.” He pushed aside his plate among the myriad of empty ones and ones still covered with partial remainders of food left on them.

Even with such a stupidly silly story as that, Licorice found himself smiling a bit at that. He supposed it did sound funny to imagine Envi in that predicament. After all, he was one of the least favorites of his father’s men – though Satanick had him as the head of the demons. Still, even with such a story like that, it didn’t bother Licorice right now to hear about that filthy man; in this moment, he honestly didn’t think much about his hatred of him at all.

No. In this moment, the more he drank, the more relaxed and open Licorice felt around his father. Perhaps time with his father wasn’t so bad after all….

Licorice gave a slight smile at that thought.

Satanick noticed the way Licorice’s cheeks became easily flushed. For his first time with alcohol, he certainly was taking it quite hard. He couldn’t help but find it almost comical how the boy suddenly seemed to talk to him more – open up to him more. Sure, it started off awkwardly with Licorice only replying in simple statements, but now he seemed to be listening intently to him and even adding into the conversations when appropriate. Even with his pinkish cheeks and slightly slurred words, Licorice seemed to be able to maintain a conversation with him. Honestly, Satanick was enjoying this time with his son. Part of him realized that the liquor only had helped loosen the boy’s tongue and inhibitions, and that perhaps this wasn’t the “real” Licorice. Still, at this point in time, he didn’t care – he was just happy to have his son’s company.

As Licorice took another sip from his glass, soon placing it back onto the wooden table with a slight thunk – Satanick could see he was losing control of some of his motor functions – he looked at Satanick. His father could see the way his eyes were glazed over now, and he could only imagine how fuzzy the boy’s head probably was becoming. Instinctively, Satanick slid the large bottle of wine closer to his side of the table, pouring himself another glass. Best he kept it away from Licorice and cut him off while ahead; three glasses seemed to be the boys limit. After all, he didn’t want to have Licorice going home drunk.

“Hey, Father?” Licorice began, resting his left elbow on the table, now placing his chin sloppily into his hand, maintaining eye contact with him. Surely whatever he wanted to ask was important enough he wasn’t paying attention to the rest of his body. The little chit chat seemed to be over for more pressing matters on his mind; Satanick didn’t mind in the slightest.

He smiled at his son. “Yes, Lico, what is it?”

Not sure if his son was blushing from the wine or from what he was thinking about, the boy almost appeared lost in thought – though, glazed eyes didn’t help how he appeared. “Well, I was just wondering…have you ever done something you regret?”

Tilting his head to the side a moment, Satanick pondered what that could mean. Licorice had regrets about things he’d done? Well, he supposed everyone did – be it big or small. Reaching for the thin stem of the wine glass, Satanick raised it to his lips, drinking down the dark red liquid. Placing the glass down, he gave a reassuring smile to Licorice. “Of course I have,” he responded. “Many, many things.” The regrets of long ago liked to creep up at this point in time whenever Satanick ruminated on them, but he did his best to push away those tendrils that reached out towards his mind. Right now, this wasn’t about him. He was more curious as to what types of things Licorice harbored in that usually quiet demeanor. “What about you, Licorice? Do you have things you regret?”

Those yellow-orange eyes lowered a moment, and Satanick could swear he saw his eyelids drooping a bit. He couldn’t help but chuckle at this sight – poor Licorice didn’t know how to handle even this little bit of alcohol. He honestly found it adorable. Still, tired as he might be getting, Licorice continued. He raised his right hand to point a finger at Satanick. “You first. Tell me something you regret, then I’ll tell you mine.”

It was all he could do to not burst out laughing at that. Adult he might be, but he was still quite childish. Well, he could play along with that, Satanick thought to himself. With a grin, Satanick leaned back in his chair slightly, crossing his arms over his chest and his right leg over his left knee. He wanted to be relaxed for this little banter back and forth. After all, that’s how these childish games worked, wasn’t it?

“Okay, Licorice,” he began. “I regret not taking more photos of you when you were an infant. You were just too cute!”

Licorice rolled his eyes. “No, no; that’s a cheap excuse of a regret. I wanted to know something more.” He waved his hand towards himself, as if in a “come on” motion. “Give me another one.” 

Satanick raised a finger up, wagging it. “Uh uh. That’s not how the game works, Licorice. After I go, it’s now your turn. So, go on; tell me something you regret.” He couldn’t help but giggle a little under his breath at this child’s play.

With a soft “humph” under his breath, Licorice drummed his fingers on the table, pressing his left cheek more into his palm now. His eyelids were certainly dropping more, Satanick noticed. “I…I have a few, I guess,” Licorice mumbled out.

Grinning, and almost a bit excited at what Licorice would reveal, Satanick coaxed him on. “Don’t be ashamed, Lico. I’m your father. You can confide anything in me.”

Satanick should have known something was off when Licorice had so eagerly begun talking with him. The boy was clearly inebriated enough to do this when he normally would have been snippy with him about having to be in his presence; that should have been his first hint. The second should have been when he had willingly offered this banter about regrets. Nothing prepared Satanick for this blow to his heart and mind that Licorice now spoke as he slowly began to lose consciousness. This sweet evening now had begun to take a sour turn.

“I…I regret…sex…with Mother.”

The sight and sound of Licorice’s head hitting the table with a soft thump was little in comparison to the bomb that Satanick felt had went off in his heart and head. Staring at the peaceful, sleeping expression of his unconscious son – his right arm hanging down at his side with his left arm splayed out in front of him on the table – Satanick slowly stood up, standing perfectly straight as he stared down at this boy that was also a man. Licorice’s long, black ponytail hung over his back, draping over his left shoulder to hang down. Already, he was starting to drool on the table with his mouth slightly open as he steadily breathed out.

As Licorice slept soundly in his mildly drunken stupor, Satanick dealt with the waves that threatened to drown him. Upon hearing the word "sex," Satanick couldn't help but feel mildly amused and intrigued about whom Licorice had been with; until, he spoke those final, damning words. Nausea and anxiety gripped him as he tried to breathe with lungs that felt like they were being gripped in a vice.

No.

Licorice wasn’t going to be going home drunk tonight after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the drama begins! XD


	3. Restless Peace

Satanick paced back and forth at the head of his bed, his hands clasped behind his back as his mind played mental gymnastics. At this point, he had walked back and forth like this for well over an hour, yet he could not get his thoughts to settle down into a cohesive frame of mind.

Just what in the world did Licorice mean by something like this?! Was he truly so intoxicated he wasn’t sure of what he was saying? No, surely not; the boy had become loose-lipped, true, but he also had displayed that moment of regret. That silly little game had just been for fun. Or was there something more sinister lurking at the bottom of all of this?

Satanick soon stopped in his tracks, gritting his teeth together harshly as his hands now gripped tightly at his hair, covering his ears. These intrusive, chaotic thoughts were not audible, but he still felt the need to shut out the whispers of anxiety he felt creeping up into his brain. They sunk in like venomous snakes, piercing into his mind with sharp fangs of filthy reasoning’s.

_Licorice had sex with Ivlis._

_Ivlis had sex with Licorice._

_Your lover and your child did it._

_That slippery Buri had relations with his own son._

_Disgusting!_

_Pathetic!_

_Filthy!_

_Horrible!_

Each word – each thought – was a hideous hiss from these serpents slithering into every crevice in his brain. Satanick gritted his teeth so harshly, he felt they would break at any moment. Tears stung his eyes as he could not help but imagine Ivlis – the one whom he had tortured yet loved so deeply these days – being intimate with the child they had created in love. At the time, he did not realize that he had fallen in love with that devil from another world, but over time, he began to see his own sickness had developed into something blossoming; quite literally, in fact. He recollected the memories of him sprouting those deep, purple flowers and thorns from his horns; the way he had literally become ill over his feelings. Yes…he had fallen for this pathetic roach after all of this time.

Now, everything Satanick had worked so hard at – forming and developing a new bond, albeit a strange one to the outside world – was now crumbling down around him…all thanks to those damning, damning words.

“Guh!” Satanick slowly sank to his knees directly in front of the bed, still digging his black fingernails into his skull. The thoughts were too much to bear. _Make it stop!_ his mind screamed at him. _Please! Make it stop!_ The tears that stung at his eyes burned so fiercely, as did the turmoil and bile he felt in his heart and his gut.

A light moan to his left had Satanick turning to stare at the source of the noise.

Ah, that’s right. Licorice was sleeping on the bed, passed out in his blissful stupor. Satanick didn’t feel right about letting Licorice lie slumped over his table like that, so he simply had moved him to the nearby comfort. Hoping that the boy wasn’t waking up, Satanick slowly raised himself from off the floor, looking down at his child. How it hurt to even look at him right now! The young man lie on his right hand side, arms and legs slightly curled up as he slept unawares of the devastation taking place inside of his own father. Staring at the way the boy’s hair was styled and in a long ponytail only reminded Satanick of Ivlis. Even the way he was sleeping was reminiscent of how Ivlis would lie while Satanick would spoon up behind him after an evening together.

Satanick ripped his gaze from Licorice, feeling the tears already starting to roll down his cheeks at such a jerking motion. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as he tried to hold back the urge to scream. So, so desperately he wanted to scream; to cry; to hurt…. But whom to hurt was the question. All he could fathom in this moment was immediately going to Ivlis and breaking the flame devil. After all, Licorice was still a young man – a child in many ways, in Satanick’s eyes. Yes, he was grown, but was he really? As such, how….?

“How could this have happened?” Satanick whispered out, his voice threatening to crack as he whispered aloud. Even as he spoke, the rumble of distant thunder began to sound outside in the now pitch black evening sky. At least now, something other than Satanick would be weeping downpours tonight. Turning back towards Licorice, Satanick walked around to the right-hand side of the bed to take a seat on the edge of the silken purple covers and white sheets. Slumped over, Satanick looked over his right shoulder at the almost serene face of Licorice. In it, all he could see were glimpses of Ivlis. Feeling the anger once again welling up inside of him with the commingling pain, Satanick found himself straightening up as he reached over to take a hold of Licorice’s hand. Still deep in slumber, Licorice did not stir, even as Satanick raised his hand up, staring at these long fingers that looked so much like his own.

Had these hands truly touched his lover? Was Licorice really telling the full truth of the matter? To even imagine such a thing filled Satanick with horrible, horrible dread and disgust. A pervert he might be, but this…this was too much to bear. Never would he have imagined that his own son would do such things. The terrifying thought of snapping Licorice’s fingers – breaking his bones – almost appealed to a dark side of Satanick at this point. After all, if Licorice was truly the culprit, it would be no problem to punish the boy.

“No,” Satanick whispered out as he practically inspected Licorice’s fingertips with his gaze. “No, that’s impossible. Licorice wouldn’t have done this on his own.” He tried to convince himself of this much. This was his son! His own flesh and blood; no way would Licorice be the one who had initiated such an act. Even if Licorice had gone to Hidou's video shop, the boy was still so naive to the things of the relationships.

No.

No way would Satanick allow himself to harm his own child. Imagining even doing so made Satanick feel like impaling himself. He’d rather die than cause any harm to Licorice. “I’m sorry,” Satanick whispered out, placing Licorice’s hand back down onto the cushioned spot. Of course he should apologize for even thinking of such a thing as this.

Logically, if it wasn’t Licorice whom was to blame, then….

“That miserable little cockroach,” Satanick found himself saying about Ivlis. It had been quite a while now since he had called the one whom he’d professed his love to such an insulting nickname. Now, the one….

Satanick felt a lump forming in his throat imagining such a horrid thing. Had Ivlis – that feisty, meek, air-headed devil – really coerced his own son into such a filthy thing? Even though he himself was always whining and complaining when Satanick would show him even the slightest bit of affection?

 _Insanity_!

That’s what this was!

Rationality showed that this was not how things worked, and yet…how else did this make sense? The swirling of such a cyclical crisis only made Satanick feel dizzy to add with to his ever growing list of physiological symptoms.

“I don’t want to think any more,” Satanick whispered as he turned himself around to lay his head down on the fluffed pillows at the head of his bed. He glanced down the length of his body to see Licorice still passed out.

Good. He could weep in peace as he tried to still his restless mind but tired body. Satanick placed the bottoms of his palms roughly over his eyes as he sobbed.

The steady rhythm of rain now settled in against the windows, drowning out the devil lord’s own tears with its pattern.

Licorice groaned as he cracked open his eyes. He knew before he even opened his eyes to the dim lighting that this was going to hurt. As he steadily cracked them open, the pounding headache that had been his first greeter this morning only escalated when he saw light. He immediately shut them again with a groan. A chuckle in front of him had him once again opening his eyes, hating the pain, but needing to confirm his thoughts. Sure enough, Satanick was there, sitting beside him on the bed. The devil lord had his back propped up against the mountain of pillows behind him as he stretched his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed. His arms were also crossed over his chest in a comfortable, relaxed position.

Realizing that he had somehow ended up asleep in his father’s bed, Licorice pushed himself up, now realizing that slow movements were for the best. Why did the room have to spin like this?! Feeling hands on his shoulders, Licorice raised his gaze up, staring at Satanick’s purple depths through his messy black bangs. Even with his palms pressed into the mattress for support, Licorice was a bit grateful that his father was keeping him a bit steady during this problematic morning. Though, it was embarrassing for his father to see him in this condition.

“How…. How long was I out for?” Licorice croaked out, his voice quite not up to par so soon after resting.

Satanick gave a small smile. “Oh, not long. Only about twelve hours or so. No biggie.” The way he said it so nonchalantly made Licorice question just how long time really meant for this devil. When had been the last time he had slept this long for? Licorice couldn’t remember. Then again, he barely remembered anything from last night. That was a tad concerning to him, to say the least, but right now that did not matter - he had much bigger problems to cope with. 

His knitted brows and confused expression must have warned Satanick of this, as Satanick lowered his face to look into Licorice’s wandering eyes. “Hey, what’s the matter, Lico? You feeling ill? Alcohol can do that to some people if they aren’t accustomed to it.”

Licorice sighed out with a light groan. “That would have been nice to know before I said yes to that.”

Satanick’s laughter only agitated the headache in Licorice’s brain as the noise pierced through his ears. He winced, and Satanick lightly chuckled out, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Well, you really didn’t eat much dinner either, Licorice. Desert doesn’t count. And three glasses for a first timer can be a bit much.” Now that he thought about it, he also couldn’t help but ponder if Licorice’s child form had anything to do with messing with his anatomy and the handling of substances. He never sensed any change in his son when switching between the forms, though. Satanick merely shrugged it off for now as a passing thought. He now lowered his hands off of Licorice’s shoulders as the boy turned to dangle his legs off the opposite side of the bed, his back towards Satanick now.

That long ponytail hanging down his back….

“What are your plans now, Licorice?” Satanick offered in small talk.

Lightly holding the right side of his head now, his bangs covering his fingers, Licorice sighed. “I just want to head home, Father.” He closed his eyes as he knit his brows together in pain. Blunt and to the point, but also with a hint of slight pleading in his voice. At this point in time, Licorice didn’t mind if he was thought of as weak for not being able to hold his liquor. He just wanted to rest in a dark room – no lights or sounds to disturb him.

The rustling in front of him had him reopening his eyes to see Satanick now in front of him. Licorice slid his hand down his face, looking up at his father’s outstretched hand. “Of course, Lico,” the devil lord said. “Come along. I’ll make sure you get there safely.”

Staring at his father’s open palm, Licorice nodded very carefully. A helping hand would actually be appreciated at the moment. Sliding his hand into his father’s, Licorice braced for the sensation of traveling between worlds. Thankfully, Satanick transported the two of them into Licorice’s room. At least he wouldn’t have to wander the halls to his bed. Licorice stumbled at the quick motion, finding Satanick holding onto his upper arms to steady him. Licorice naturally reacted, as well, holding back onto his father’s arms to have something stable to hold onto.

“Easy now,” Satanick chuckled. “Let’s get you back to bed, Licorice.”

The nauseating and foggy sensations in his gut and brain were the young man’s only companions as he barely registered that he was now on the bed, gazing at the darkened canopy of his bed. Well, at least he could take comfort in being in a place he enjoyed. However, as he mildly gave thought about dinner and how everything seemed to go well - despite passing out from drinking - Licorice realized that maybe time with Father wasn’t as horrible as it could have been. Plus, he now knew to avoid such a beverage.

Despite his mouth being dry, Licorice turned his head slightly to the left to thank Satanick for bringing him home. “Father. Thank….” His words trailed off when he realized that the man was no longer in the room with him. No matter, he figured; he probably had gone home so as to not disturb him wanting to rest.

As Licorice felt his heavy eyes drifting shut once more, he silently was grateful that Satanick seemed to be respecting his boundaries today.

Finally, some peace and quiet….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a bit slower with my fics these days! Really sorry! I would love to keep typing more, but the reality of work is starting to sink in more and more these days, lol. 
> 
> Anyway, I thank you all for waiting for more of this and any other fics on here. Thank you all for your love and support! I will continue to write as much as I can in my time. Still love it here, and love you all! :) <3


	4. Roach

Licorice sat at the kitchen table, holding his forehead in his left hand, elbow propped up on the rectangular wooden structure. At least it was solid enough to keep him steady. Thankfully, sleep had been restful, albeit it he had slept in quite late. Half of the afternoon had gone by in a simple blink of the eyes. Grateful he was feeling better, Licorice still battled the sluggish feeling of getting back to normal. _Foolish_ , he reprimanded himself. It was foolish of him to even agree to have dinner with his father. He supposed it had gone well, even though it was quite awkward for him at first. What bothered him in hindsight was that he couldn’t remember the rest of the evening or even falling asleep at Satanick’s place. He vaguely recalled coming home, but that was the extent of his knowledge – all else remained fuzzy.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to be around this afternoon. They were most likely out doing errands or whatever they pleased. At least Poemi and Emalf weren’t around to cause too much unnecessary ruckus. The steam from the cup of tea in front of him at least soothed him a bit with its warmth and fragrance.

As Licorice sat there in silence, allowing the hum of lights and kitchen ware to be his one companion, the sound of boots on the linoleum had him raising his eyes as he lowered his hand down. Resting his arm across the table, he felt his heart give that familiar flutter when seeing Mother enter the room. In his casual wear today, Ivlis was a mixture of blacks and reds – his dark gray hair hung down around his face in long strands, the rest tied back in his normal ponytail. The red tips were the only color on him besides the silver of his belt buckle and the gold of the buttons on his boots; all his other attire was black – sweater, pants, and boots. Ivlis’s golden eyes flicked over to Licorice as he entered the kitchen, and he gave a tiny smile and nod towards him. Even without many words, Licorice was grateful he could see Mother.

“Good morning,” Licorice greeted him. “I thought no one was around.”

Ivlis strolled into the kitchen the rest of the way, now gathering his own mug for a beverage. “I think you mean, ‘Good afternoon,’ Licorice,” Ivlis corrected him. As he poured the hot water from the kettle on the stove into his mug, Ivlis shot him a quick glance. “You slept in pretty late today.”

A simple statement, but one that seemed to bear a lot of weight to it. Licorice didn’t feel as if he was being condemned for such a thing, but he meekly lowered his head, staring at the wood of the table. “I’m sorry, Mother. Last night was... strange for me.”

Unbeknownst to Licorice, the flame devil cocked an eyebrow at that, but he shrugged it off. Why pry into the boy’s irregular sleep pattern? “It’s fine,” Ivlis stated. He grabbed a nearby tea bag, plopping it into his own mug.

Licorice still found it odd that even in this fiery world, they still enjoyed hot liquids. He wasn’t going to complain, though – it was nice to have these simple little things. It made it even sweeter when he was able to just indulge in these little things with someone he deeply cared for.

As Ivlis stood with his back to the counter, he casually leaned against it to prop himself up. Licorice raised his gaze to stare at Ivlis for a bit before lowering his yellow-orange gaze into his murky, hot drink. Silence was sometimes golden, but it could also feel so strange with two people in a room. Pursing his lips a moment, Licorice decided to ask, “So, you are free today?”

Ivlis nodded. “Yeah, I just… didn’t feel like doing much.” Simple words, but Licorice couldn’t help but worry if there was more to Mother’s statement than what he let on. He knew all too well how quiet and meek Ivlis could be, but he also knew that Mother was always thinking in the back of his mind about something. Licorice wanted to ask more, but figured doing so might hurt Ivlis, even if he wasn’t fully sure the reasoning behind it.

Licorice gave a small nod in response to Ivlis’s answer. The silence that followed was still deafening, but the occasional sips from both parties helped fill the air a bit. Ivlis was the first to break the silence, straightening up fully now. “Well, I suppose I should find something to do.” Even he didn’t sound like he had convinced himself of actually going to accomplish this goal.

Licorice watched as Ivlis headed out, the plain black mug still in his red, scaled hand. Licorice looked down at his own hand that held the handle of his white mug, still taking note of how different his hands looked from Ivlis’s. He supposed most of his genes took after Satanick after all, though he preferred to compare his other features to Mother’s. As Ivlis made it to the archway to head out of the kitchen, Licorice called out, “Mother?”

Ivlis looked over his left shoulder, the shoulder-length strands of hair in the front of his face moving slightly with the movement. Tired eyes stared back into his own lowered ones. It always seemed that poor Mother was always so worn out. Was it from the pressures of running the Flame Underworld? Licorice didn’t fully understand or get involved in the politics of such a thing, so he was unaware if these duties were the main culprit causing Ivlis’s hooded eyes. Or could it be he was dealing with family matters? Licorice felt his heart ache, thinking that he could be a problem in Ivlis’s eyes since he was his son, after all. No, he tried to reason; it did not necessarily mean this was his fault in any way. More than likely, it revolved around Satanick.

Father….

At the thought of Mother being upset with Father for a multitude of reasons – there was plenty, Licorice could imagine – Licorice felt a bit disheartened. If Ivlis was truly thinking of Satanick, just what exactly was he thinking about? Licorice hated the idea of seeing Mother upset over that man. As much as he respected his father – even having dinner with him – Licorice could still not quite forgive him fully for the past trauma he had caused Ivlis. He saw the way Mother would cry at times, even when he thought no one was around to see. At times, Licorice could see the scars. Granted, these things had significantly faded since Father had declared his love for Mother. Still…wounds didn’t always heal so quickly, did they?

“I….” Licorice began, gathering his thoughts. “If you…ever want to talk, Mother, I’ll listen.” How silly; of course one would listen when someone else spoke. That was logical, wasn’t it? Now Licorice felt foolish for how he spoke. As he went to hang his head a bit, bringing his tea to his mouth, Ivlis gave a soft smile to his son.

“Thanks, Lico. I’ll be fine.” With that, Ivlis continued along his way. As the sound of his boots echoed further away down the hallway, Licorice sighed out into his tea, his hot breath and the steam mingling together to hit him in the face.

Yes. Pure absurdity to think that he could deal with such tender matters for his Mother.

Days seemed to blend together as Ivlis tried his best to take care of the business in his world. Most things were trivial matters – land disputes, demons upset about one thing or the other…. He sighed as he leaned back on his throne, stretching his legs in front of him. Most of today had been dealing with others – this was not his strong suit, he could admit. He was clumsy with his words at times, but firm and fair; at least, he tried to be. He found himself a bit more annoyed these days when others would bicker in front of him. Could these demons not just shut up, figure out their own problems, and leave him from being the middle-man?!

Annoyed he might be, but Ivlis could not help but feel he was subconsciously looking at himself in a mirror. Memories of yelling and fighting – well, “attempting” to fight back – against Satanick resurfaced every now and then in his mind. Satanick had come around frequently to declare his love to Ivlis, which always was the experience, to say the least. Ivlis didn’t appreciate these advances, yet he found himself becoming less and less opposed to these declarations. Was it because they were so frequent these days that he could just let them roll off his shoulders like it was nothing? He honestly hoped that was the reason, as the latter idea was the most troubling one to entertain.

Standing up from his throne, Ivlis stretched his arms above his head. Unbuttoning the lines of golden buttons on his military style jacket, Ivlis slid off his long gray over coat, jacket, and scarf. He tossed them over the thick right arm of the throne. At the end of the day, it felt better to just be in his normal black turtleneck and matching black pants. He soon made his way down the stairs and down the red carpet that led away from the throne. As he passed by the flickering torches on the wall on both sides of him, the crackling of the flames almost reminded Ivlis of cackling laughter – but not just anyone’s; someone in particular.

That horrible devil had done nothing but torture him for his own amusement and to “teach him a lesson.” With such years of horror, one should surely hate the idea of seeing such a monster. Yet….

Ivlis’s steps slowed as he paused halfway down the long stretch of carpeting. He hung his head, letting out a deep sigh. Why? Why was he feeling so despondent these days? The mere thought of that devil with those penetrating purple eyes and dark hair had Ivlis caught in such a predicament. He loathed the man, yes, but not seeing him for days on end had him feeling almost…dejected. As if he was being abandoned once more….

“Stupid!” Ivlis muttered to himself. The whole situation was stupid! Even Licorice had noticed this change in Ivlis’s attitude from a few days ago. Now, the more time that passed, Ivlis couldn’t help but wonder why these “romantic gestures” had suddenly halted. Could it be that Satanick had now found a new plaything? The idea excited Ivlis – not that he took pleasure in someone else’s misery, but he could once and for all be free from that man.

So, why did his heart ache slightly imagining such rejection? Why did it pain him ever so slightly to imagine Satanick having "fun" with another? _That's masochistic!_ Ivlis screamed at himself. 

Ivlis furiously shook his head, digging his nails into his clenched palms. “Get a grip, Ivlis,” he mumbled to himself, forcing his feet to keep moving forward. Maybe being cooped up inside for days dealing with other people’s problems and his own was finally causing him to go even more insane than he already was. He couldn’t help but huff at such a ridiculous thought.

As Ivlis moved towards the door that led out of the throne room, hand reaching for the handle, he felt a presence behind him before he realized what was happening. As he went to turn around, Ivlis was stopped before he could even get a glimpse of who was there. An arm wrapped around his body, pinning his left arm down as a cloth was placed over his mouth and nose. Ivlis’s eyes widened at such an unexpected thing, and he instinctively screamed, naturally breathing in. He soon realized his mistake as the fumes of something unfamiliar hit him. He raised his right hand up, grabbing onto the wrist of the perpetrator to try to pull this foul-smelling cloth away from him. As Ivlis tried to determine what this was, he soon began to feel light-headed. The icy cold sensation of this odor filled his lungs, and the more he naturally panicked, he realized that breathing in was the worst possible thing he could have done at this point. _Don’t pass out!_ he screamed at himself internally, only for his eyes to begin to droop as the feeling began to spread throughout his body. Everything began to spin in front of him – the dark brown wood of the door, the stone walls, and the flickering orange and red of the flames all swirled together. Now, Ivlis’s legs began to feel weak and buckle under his own weight. 

Despite not seeing who was behind him, Ivlis knew from the way this body pressed into his from behind – how it held him and the feel of the hand over his mouth – that it was none other than Satanick. The last thing he remembered hearing before he felt himself fade into the darkness was that familiar devil’s voice whispering, “I’m sorry, Roachy….”

Ivlis slowly cracked his eyes open bit by bit as he tried to figure out why he had been sleeping and where exactly he was waking up. He gradually raised his head, his neck stiff and sore from it hanging down; Ivlis huffed in agitation at that mild annoyance. He soon found himself even more annoyed as he realized from the familiar setting where he was; the stone walls and floor were all too familiar to him. The table off to his left-hand side still featured the wide array of torture instruments Ivlis had become familiar with over these past few years. He hated that he was back in this familiar territory, but why now? Why all of a sudden was he back in this precarious spot? Ivlis had actually become accustomed to not being here thanks to Satanick’s “lovey-dovey” attempts to declare his love for him. Was this just another rouse of his to scare Ivlis into accepting his affections? What a strange way to do such a thing. Ivlis now looked down to see himself seated in a durable steel chair, arms positioned on either side of him strapped down with iron cuffs; his ankles were given the same treatment to the thick legs of the chair.

A slight noise at the front of the slightly darkened room had Ivlis looking up, staring into the darkened right corner of the cell. Even without seeing him all the way, he knew right away that Satanick was there. Ivlis felt a chill run down his back as he tried to prepare himself for what was happening. Satanick hadn’t tortured him in such a long time, he feared that he would once again be back at square one with learning how to endure through the pain. Perhaps…this wasn’t for pain, then? Wishful thinking, he knew, but he could only hope.

Satanick now had stepped out of the shadows, making his way over towards Ivlis. The way he stared down at him with emotionless eyes and such a placid expression had Ivlis more on-edge now. Just what in the world was this devil thinking? Normally he was all gung-ho about being “affectionate,” but something was seriously different in the way this man looked at him today.

He looked at him as if he was nothing more than scum. A cockroach. Something that needed to be squashed. Come to think of it - from what he could remember - Satanick had even used that cockroach nickname of his when he'd drugged him....

Ivlis gulped as he stared up into Satanick’s face, that same shiver running down his back and into his legs, leaving his feet frozen. “W – What are you doing?” Ivlis croaked out, hating that his own voice was stuttering. Calm down, he tried to tell himself. This wasn’t his first experience in this situation. After all, Satanick had caused such misery and inflicted such devastation to him before, so he should have been used to it by now…right?

Nonetheless, seeing the man that so proudly declared “I love you!” a few days ago now looking at him with disdain only confused the flame devil further.

Ivlis gasped in pain when Satanick roughly reached out, pinching his jaw and cheeks between his right fingers as he dragged Ivlis’s face to his as far as he could. Satanick met him the rest of the way, bending down at the hips. Their gazes locked, and Ivlis saw those deep, dark depths of this devil’s eyes. So horribly, terribly sinister. Yet…was that a hint of sadness Ivlis saw in them? He knew that feeling all too well himself. Still, the fear of the unknown diminished Ivlis’s curiosity on the “why” of what this man had planned for him today.

“Ivlis, I am so, so deeply hurt.” That dark tone in Satanick’s voice – it made him sound as if he wasn’t himself anymore. Ivlis hated this tone and how it filled him with such a strange sensation. “Do you know _why_ I’m so hurt?” With the enunciation of “why,” Satanick pinched even harder, digging his nails into Ivlis’s skin, and the flame devil hissed through his teeth, scrunching up his eyes.

“N – No!” Ivlis groaned out. “I – I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Honestly, he didn’t. Just what was going on in this man’s messed-up mind today?! Before Ivlis even thought about it, he stammered out, “Where have you been lately?” Why he even questioned this, he wasn’t sure of; it just struck him as odd for Satanick to disappear for days on end like this, only to kidnap him for an impromptu torture session. It was common more so in the past, yes, but now it seemed so out of place of all times.

“Ivlis ~,” Satanick sang out, but not in his usual happy tone; it was that dreadfully deep, dark one. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He completely ignored Ivlis’s question.

Ivlis wasn’t sure how to respond to that. No, he didn’t tell Satanick everything about himself or his life – nor should he, he determined. Yet nothing he did lately was really secretive. All was bare and open to Satanick’s eyes. Now he was accusing him of lying about something unknown?

Ivlis opened his mouth to retort, only for him to now wordlessly hang it open as he found both of Satanick’s hands now wrapped around his throat tightly. Ivlis instinctively wanted to reach up his hands to get Satanick to loosen his hands, but sadly to no avail being pinned down. Satanick tightened his grip now, and Ivlis tried to pull away as feebly as he could. His throat ached, his lungs burned, and he felt the panic beginning to set in as he realized he was quickly losing air. Ivlis naturally tried to gasp in any fragment of breath he could, finding nothing but choked, weak croaks coming from his gaping mouth. All he could do was stare into the hate-filled yet misty eyes of this devil that mercilessly seemed as if he was trying to end his life. Tears began to pool at the corners of Ivlis’s eyes, and he silently pleaded with his golden orbs for Satanick to stop. Still, the devil lord strangled him, pushing his neck back to fully extend and expose Ivlis’s neck for better coverage for his hands to squeeze. As his head was forced back, the tears from his eyes rolled back into Ivlis’s pointed ears. All he could feel was the constricting, burning, and almost numbing pain that wracked his throat and chest as he instinctively tried to wrench out of his bonds with no success. Not even his weak grunts slipped past his lips; only a dribble of saliva ran over the right side of his mouth. The black dots that crept into his vision were now becoming thicker covers as Ivlis could feel his consciousness fading. He had endured much torture over these years, but to simply be choked out like this in such a slow and personal way left the panic-stricken flame devil with only further confusion and heartache. 


	5. All for Naught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This isn't the best written torture, but it can be a bit graphic. Wasn't quite sure how much to add or if I should have kept going or ended it sooner, but it is what it is. :P 
> 
> Triggers for swearing, blood, and violence in this one. 
> 
> Apologies if it's too much.

Satanick watched with an impassive and stoic expression as he continued to choke Ivlis. He could clearly see the terror and helplessness in the flame devil’s eyes, and part of him screamed at himself to simply put a stop to this. Satanick forced Ivlis’s neck back to further press his thumbs into Ivlis’s windpipe. Seeing Ivlis’s pleading eyes that now began to roll back into his head only made this experience worse for himself. _Maybe…. Maybe this is enough_ , he tried to tell himself. However, he knew he couldn’t relent – not yet, at least. Satanick deeply had come to love Ivlis, but to think that he could truly have done something so filthy to their own child…. It was unforgivable. 

No, he couldn’t let Ivlis go; he needed to get to the bottom of this. He desperately needed to draw a confession from these gasping lips.

Seeing the whites of Ivlis’s eyes as his eyelids began to droop, Satanick determined that perhaps this would do for the time being. After all, more methods remained to be tested. Sliding his hands off of Ivlis’s neck, Satanick watched as Ivlis took a deep, raspy breath in. It sounded quite painful and forced, as if he was trying to get some feeling back into his throat. As Ivlis gasped, grunted, and coughed, Satanick listened to each pitiful noise as Ivlis moved his head and neck around. Satanick took stock of the devil’s wiggling body with its limited freedoms, watching as Ivlis’s nails tried to dig into the steel arms of the chair. It pained him to see Ivlis in discomfort these days, but he had to remain firm.

This was no time to back down; he had come this far. Today, he would get his answers to the question that plagued his mind and ate at his heart like a canker.

“Ivlis,” Satanick began, his tone deep and menacing. He knew there was an audible difference in his tone when he was this upset, but that didn’t matter at this point. If anything, it served him a deep purpose in getting Ivlis’s full attention. He stared down with shadowed eyes at the sniveling face that stared up at him. What a pathetic site to behold – Ivlis with tears and spittle rolling down his cheeks. _Don’t pity him_ , Satanick reminded himself. _This **must** be done_.

“I need your complete honesty, Ivlis. Do you understand?”

The devil looked down, staring at his own lap as he gave slight hiccups between choked breaths. Seeing Ivlis avoiding his gaze only spurred Satanick on. Was this insect ashamed of the past sins he’d committed; could he not face Satanick now? That chaotic thought was enough to send Satanick into a blind rage, though he simply gritted his teeth roughly, growling in the recesses of his own throat.

Reaching out again, Satanick slightly bent over to now grip onto the top of Ivlis’s hair, yanking his head up. The devil let out a cry, and Satanick almost felt sorry for him in that moment. Still, he forced Ivlis to meet his gaze head-on. “I asked if you understood me, you wretch,” Satanick hissed through clenched teeth.

The fear, pain, yet slight defiance in Ivlis’s weepy eyes only edged Satanick into his already tumultuous feelings. “I….”The flame devil’s voice was barely recognizable with how hoarse it had become. “I don’t…know what…you want from…me.” Each word sounded strained as he choked out this feeble response. Not quite the one Satanick was hoping for. However, he supposed he hadn’t properly explained himself to Ivlis; fair enough, he could admit.

“Alright, Ivlis,” Satanick sighed out in exasperation. “I’ll start very simple so you can use that brain of yours.” With his right hand still holding Ivlis’s face eye-level with his, Satanick used his left hand to grip onto Ivlis’s crotch with a rough grasp. He relished in seeing the look of abject horror and discomfort on Ivlis’s face at such an unwelcome advancement.

“One teeny, tiny question for you.” Leaning in even closer so his hot breath spread across Ivlis’s face, Satanick finally questioned him, “Who have you been sleeping with, Ivlis? Hmm? Who?”

Ivlis’s mouth hung open, his lips flapping with no noise coming from them at first. Was he seriously being questioned about who he was having sex with? “Wh – What are you...talking…about?” Satanick had clearly lost his mind; whatever he’d been up to the last few days, he clearly was going insane thinking Ivlis was out there having relations with others. Besides, even if he was, what business was that of his?! Ivlis found himself getting hot-headed at such accusations and prying. Ivlis narrowed his eyes to glare back at Satanick now. “Stop this!” he hissed, his voice still not quite up to par at full volume. He tried to pull his head out of Satanick’s grip, feeling the tug of his hair on his scalp. “Release me! Now!”

Satanick stared intently, as if scanning Ivlis’s face for any deception. He couldn’t see any right away, but that did not necessarily mean that Ivlis wasn’t hiding anything behind those watery yet angry eyes. Letting out a deep sigh as he lowered his head, Satanick released his grip on Ivlis’s hair, and the flame devil gave his own sigh - but of relief. Straightening up, Satanick turned on his heel to walk toward the assortment of tools on the table off to the side. Behind him, he could hear Ivlis grunting a bit as he tried to free himself from his bonds. No matter how much he struggled, both of them knew it was futile. Well, Satanick figured he wouldn’t stop him from his fruitless efforts. Better the devil wear himself out this way; then confessions might be easier to draw out. Brushing his fingers over the variety of instruments, Satanick decided the simpler the better. Snatching a pair of pliers, a knife, and scissors, Satanick turned back towards Ivlis. He had to admit, seeing Ivlis in this predicament had him feeling quite strange once more. All the progress he had made with not harming Ivlis…all the progress he had made to be kinder and sweeter to him…. It all felt like it was fading away.

It sickened Satanick to willingly throw away all of this success. He wanted Ivlis to look at him with love and desire; _he_ wanted to look at Ivlis that way again, too. However, it was not possible today. Today he had to be a bit rough. The day he had helped Licorice come home, Satanick had debated about storming down the hallway to tear Ivlis apart, but the tugging on his heart warned him not to do so. Thankfully, some voice of reasoning had been with him. As such, he avoided both his lover and his son to process these emotions and what would be the most effective method in finding the truth.

Torture was the only logical conclusion Satanick came up with. Ivlis had not suffered in quite a while – well, not to the extremes of the past. The reprieve would have weakened the devil’s tolerance once more, so admission should be easier to draw out. Strangling him didn’t seem to affect Ivlis the way he had hoped, so now phase two now would need to be enacted.

As he stood in front of Ivlis, he watched the feisty yet scared devil stare back at him with such shaky eyes. Placing the knife and scissors off to a small, silver rolling cart, Satanick held the pair of pliers up, snipping them together in front of the flame devil’s face. He watched as Ivlis turned his face away from him, eyes squeezed together in both fear and agitation.

“Stop it! Go away!”

No amount of pleas would deter Satanick from his mission. Reaching down, Satanick yanked back Ivlis’s long black sleeves enough so he could see the red scales lining his right arm; he soon followed suit with the left sleeve. Ivlis now faced forward again, his eyes wide once more. He knew what was coming seeing those pliers approaching his right arm. His scales hadn’t been torn off in a long time, but he could still remember the rough pulling, stinging, and burning that would follow once Satanick started plucking them off one by one.

“I’ll ask once more, Roachy,” Satanick said in a placid, stoic tone, his purple eyes staring intently into Ivlis’s. Maybe the more he used the degrading nicknames again, perhaps it would help him disassociate from this man for the time being. Steeling himself to do what must be done, Satanick gripped the tip of the pointed pliers onto one of Ivlis’s scales. “Who have you been screwing? Someone...important to us?”

Already tired of this, Ivlis spat out, “You lunatic! I haven’t screwed anyone lately but you!” The backwards yanking motion was the first thing that spurred Ivlis into a panic, as he once again felt the stinging and searing pain of one of his scales being yanked off. Without any precision or finesse, Satanick ripped off the first scale, a bit of blood and flesh coming with it. More of the deep red liquid began to seep out of the small wound as Ivlis’s mouth opened into a silent scream before a raspy one erupted from him. “Agghh!” Ivlis yelped out, gritting his teeth as he tried to stifle back the scream. With his already damaged throat, screaming only made it burn even more harshly. Clenching his jaw tightly, he felt the tears stinging his eyes as Satanick dug the tip of the pliers into the open wound, wiggling it around a bit before gripping onto another scale.

“W – Wait -!” Ivlis screamed out in a raspy tone, only for it to be too late of a plea – he watched in horror as another scale was ripped from him. To watch it being pulled off with tiny pieces of flesh and blood flying out only made the pain seem that much more searing. Ivlis tried to pull back as he hissed out a groan behind his tightly clenched teeth. He closed his eyes, the stinging tears falling down his face in hot trails, mingling with the cold spittle from earlier. He leaned more to the left, as if that would somehow help him escape the start of this session.

As Satanick unfurled his grip to release the scale from the pliers, he watched the tears roll down Ivlis’s cheeks, dripping off his chin and into his lap. A sense of nauseating nostalgia washed over him as he tried to process if this was the right thing to do. Was he in the wrong for this? No; surely not. Licorice might have been drunk, but he was honest, wasn’t he? As little doubts began to eat at the back of Satanick’s thoughts like tiny maggots, he turned to Ivlis's left arm, ready to start ripping scales off this limb.

“I’ll ask again, Buri,” Satanick said, placing his palm with the bloodied pliers against Ivlis’s left cheek, turning his head to face him. “Who else – besides me – have you been messing with?” The flame devil opened his eyes to glower at this insistent man, but all he uttered out was choked cries behind his clenched teeth. Sighing out in agitation, Satanick slid his hand down to now begin pulling at the red scales of Ivlis’s other arm. Each one that was dropped to the floor with little bloody plops blended with Ivlis’s hiccupped yells. No matter how many he pulled off – back and forth between his arms in no particular pattern – Ivlis only cried, cursed, and groaned. Was he really not going to confess to his crimes? Satanick knew he was stubborn, but was he really so prideful to not admit to it already?

“You brought this on yourself,” Satanick said, his tone somewhat cold. The more he did this, the more he felt his old habits and self-disgust returning; he wasn’t sure if he liked that anymore.

A weak groan uttered from Ivlis, and Satanick placed the pliers onto the rolling cart. Perhaps he was finally giving in.

Ivlis felt the burning, searing, stinging sensations all over his arms as the warm blood ran over the arms of the chair and onto both him and the floor. His mind was scattered in several directions – focused on the pain, the newfound hatred towards this man, and the confusion of what he was after. “R – Reficul?” he croaked out. “Is that…what you mean?” Ivlis huffed, still choked in his own snot from his crying and hoarse throat.

Satanick raised an eyebrow quizzically at that. Well, yes – he had factored Reficul into this equation. But that was not the answer he was looking for. Come to think of it, Reficul hadn’t lately called for Ivlis, had she? Well, she was a simple devil, after all – she wanted a peaceful life with her wife. Besides, Ivlis was more of a “pet” for her to train than a committed lover.

Shaking his head in disappointment and another frustrated sigh –both with Ivlis and himself – Satanick now reached for the nearby scissors. Ivlis visibly shook at this, his eyes narrowing in disgust and fear. “I – I don’t know what else…you want me to do,” Ivlis pleaded in his slightly raised tone.

Placing his hand once more on Ivlis’s crotch – the flame devil jumped at this with no escape route possible – Satanick crouched down on his haunches. Watching the gleam of the scissors in the dim lighting of the room, Ivlis felt his stomach drop as a horrible wave of sickness swirled inside him. He might be naïve, but he wasn’t that stupid he couldn’t figure out what this monster wanted to do next. “S – Stop!” Ivlis screamed. Even his throat felt like it was bleeding from the inside.

Satanick looked up at Ivlis with a mixture of both impassiveness and remorse mixed in his phlox-colored irises. “I’ll stop when you admit to your filthy crimes, Ivlis.” Satanick’s eyes once again looked as if they clouded over in sadness and rage. “You…. You’re a sick man. I can’t believe you’d do such a horrible thing….”

He was insane; that must be it. Satanick must have truly gone insane. Ivlis had no inkling as to what this man was going on about, yet he had the audacity to mindlessly torture and accuse him of some sort of “crime?”

“Horrible?! You’re the horrible one, Satanick! You’re the only one who fucked me lately! You! You perverted freak!” Ivlis screamed, not caring how much it hurt to do so. He knew his anger was getting the best of him at this point, but he didn’t care. This man thought he was screwing other people now? When _he_ was the one who frequently barged in before to rape him?! Just how possessive was this madman?!

As Ivlis screamed at him, Satanick took the opportunity to release his grip on his crotch, only to shove his left hand into the flame devil’s mouth, pinching and pulling on his tongue to get it to hang out. The glint off of the silver blades of the scissors was the only hint Ivlis needed to know what was coming next. A stabbing, cutting sensation left his mouth filling with blood that ran down in pools into his lap as hot tears mingled in. All Ivlis managed to do was groan as the hot, scathing sensation of blood ran down his throat and face. 

As the flame devil struggled against this rare torture treatment – well, rare nowadays – Satanick realized that extracting an intelligible confession from a tongue-less devil was going to be difficult to understand. Holding the pink and excessively bloodied body part, Satanick placed the object back into the open and whimpering mouth of Ivlis, sending a portion of healing power to knit back together Ivlis’s damaged tongue. Even with the part now formed once more, Ivlis simply hung his head as bright red stained his chin. Iron was all he could taste. 

“Answer me, Ivlis,” Satanick warned, yet almost with a pleading crack in his voice. “Just tell me the truth, and I’ll stop.” Well, he said he would cease, but if Ivlis admitted to such a heinous act such as having sex with his own son, Satanick couldn’t promise he would fully hold up his end of the bargain.

The horror of this cruelty only made Ivlis hiccup in shocked and pained whimpers. He knew that further anger was only going to get him into more and more trouble, but unadulterated physical, mental, and emotional pain was only causing his ire to grow. “Screw you!” Ivlis managed to holler. “Die! Just die already, and leave me alone!” Many a time he had wished death upon Satanick, but that had faded over time. Now, these past, frequently used words were once more resurrecting. 

The stoicism that now flashed across Satanick’s face was a dead giveaway that this “session” was far from over. “Wrong answer, Roach,” the man sighed out before once more extracting and re-snipping Ivlis’s tongue.

Seconds dragged into minutes, which soon felt like hours. Over and over, Satanick did not let up in his relentless pursuit of “the truth.” Over and over, Ivlis found his scales ripped off, his tongue snipped out, and even his manhood slashed off with the nearby knife. Each time, Satanick would heal him, asking for an admission of guilt over some "special person." Over and over, all he did was cry, scream, and eventually beg for the madness to stop. The more he did, the more Satanick’s deadpan expression began to crack as his own tears began to sting at his eyes and run down his cheeks.

Why?

Why was Ivlis not confessing?

Ivlis hadn’t confessed to a single thing, and all that he had to show for it was a bloody, tearful, and pitiful devil. Pity him, he did; Satanick longed for pity of his own as a sense of dread began to wash over him.

“I…I can’t,” Satanick whispered out. His hands covered in blood, spittle, and semen, Satanick let the knife he was holding drop to the floor with a metallic clatter on the stone floor. He couldn’t keep up this charade. With each angered and hurt plea of _“I don’t understand”_ from Ivlis, the more it began to whittle away the wall that Satanick had tried to build up. It was futile….

If Ivlis wasn’t the culprit, then had Licorice…lied?

No.

No way.

If Licorice had been so intoxicated that he had lied – that he did not know what he had been saying….

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Satanick whispered out. That realization began to spread through his body like ice in his veins. Had all this been for nothing, then? Had he been so blinded for some sense of “justice” for his child that he hadn’t factored in that perhaps the boy was horribly mistaken? Logically, it made the most sense. But he deeply cared for his child; never would he have thought him to lie about such a sick act, even if he was drunk. 

Bile rose in Satanick’s throat as his legs began to shake underneath himself. The shivering did not ease up, and he found himself dropping to his hands and knees in front of the emotionless flame devil. The churning in his stomach only worsened, and Satanick soon vomited the contents of his stomach up, along with purple blood. Once more, that reminder of his own lovesick heart was blooming. Yet, this time, there was no confessions to be had – love or otherwise. As Satanick barfed at the feet of Ivlis - his tears and snot mingled in with the blood and bile - he raised his eyes to stare into the dim and faded eyes of Ivlis. The flame devil merely stared with dried tears as Satanick puked, his whole frame shaking from these revelations. The slow blinks and shallow breathing of the man left Satanick even more in despair.

What had gone wrong? He had planned this out so perfectly, or so he had thought. There was always room for improvisation depending on how much Ivlis had admitted to, but with nothing to go on….

“What have I done?” Satanick whispered out, as the tears kept flowing from his eyes.

Not caring that his hands were covered in all manner of filth, Satanick curled into a ball, his chest resting on his knees as his fingers dug into his own scalp.

The sharp, painful screams that echoed off the dungeon walls echoed for minutes on end. Comforting, almost, to hear the melancholic screeches that mimicked Satanick’s own emotions perfectly right now. Soon, it became painfully annoying to hear.

As it continued on, it took the devil lord time to see that the wails of terror were his own.


	6. Lack of Silent Communication

_“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”_

Ivlis moaned, halfway between waking and sleeping as he heard Satanick’s voice echoing in his head those repeated words of regret.

_“What have I done?”_

Just what had he done? Ivlis could barely remember as he cracked open his eyes, expecting to find himself still in an unpleasant situation. As the room came into focus, he realized he was lying flat on his back in his own bed. The familiar drapes around his curtained bed comforted him, knowing he was once again safe. Had it all been a dream, then? He huffed at that ridiculous idea. Of course it hadn’t been a dream; it was all too real for that. If anything, a nightmare would have been a more fitting word.

Looking down at his arms next to his sides, Ivlis noticed he was in a clean white shirt. His arms were slightly sore, but he was able to lift up his right arm, letting the sleeve roll back slightly, as the cuff was unbuttoned. His arms were completely healed – no torn scales, blood, or scars remained. Reaching out his left hand, he gingerly touched the scales he recalled being ripped off, expecting to feel a stinging sensation. Thankfully, that did not occur, and he sighed in relief. Even looking through the sleeves of his white shirt over his left arm, Ivlis could see that they were intact.

As Ivlis let his arms fall back to his sides, he let out a deep sigh. He shut his eyes once more, still heavy with sleep and sore from crying. Just what had that been about? Ivlis was accustomed to torture after all these years, but in retrospect, he realized that such moments were infrequent since Satanick’s love confessions. To suddenly be spirited away like that…to be questioned if he had been having sex with others….

Ivlis rolled over, curling his arms up underneath the pillow his head was resting on. He was never good with emotions to begin with, so trying to comprehend what he was feeling these days was beyond out of the ordinary for him. Satanick claimed to love him, but how could one profess to care for someone on that level, only to interrogate them in such horrendous ways? Confused, agitated, and possibly a bit hurt – he hated to think that he was genuinely upset that this “lover” had done this to him – Ivlis turned his face into the white pillow.

_What does he want from me?_

Ivlis hadn’t the foggiest as to the reasoning behind Satanick’s ire. As he recalled the feeling of those instruments against his body parts, Ivlis remembered the tears and pained expressions on that devil’s face. But if he truly was sorry for his actions, why did he even do this in the first place? Ivlis couldn’t help but think this way. Just what was the motivation behind all of this?

Someone…important to them?

That was what Satanick had said during the torture. The only other persona Ivlis knew of that was “important” to them that was in the same sexual circle as them was Reficul. He could barely recall the last time he had seen Reficul, let alone that she had wanted any satisfaction from him. If Reficul was not the one he had been thinking of, then who else could it be? Ivlis felt disgusted about this entire situation.

The possessive madman had the gall to accuse Ivlis of being some sort of man-whore when Satanick was the one with the highest libido drive that Ivlis had ever met. Wanting to scream into the pillow – even if his throat was feeling better – Ivlis pushed himself up on the bed, sitting back on his legs as he stared down at the imprint of his head in the object.

As sickened, disoriented, and almost saddened by this strange turn of events, Ivlis still could envision Satanick’s head beside his on this very same bed. Unwelcome as it might be to have him over for his late night “cuddles,” Ivlis still saw those deep, penetrating eyes staring into his with a sincerity he hadn’t seen from many others in his lifetime.

“Uggghhh!” Ivlis growled at himself, teeth gritted on edge now. “Shut up!” he reprimanded his brain and heart. Sliding off the bed in a huff, Ivlis began walking towards his bedroom door. He didn’t know where he wanted to go – just that he had the desire to do _something_. His hair began to turn a brighter shade when he was angry and his emotions ran rampant; already, the tingle in his palms grew as he desired to burn something to a crisp or summon a light projectile to pierce something through.

As Ivlis stormed down the quiet hallway of his castle, he took note that his body did not ache in the slightest. He immediately shut down the notion that this fiendish devil had any hint of compassion for him to have healed the very wounds he had inflicted upon him.

This was all too much to process. Ivlis didn’t want to think. Not about anything anymore….

Perhaps it would be wise to burn off some steam on whatever flammable objects he could find in his world. Destruction seemed like the best route to take as Ivlis felt his walled façade crumbling around him.

The olive-green haired demon let out a deep sigh as he stared at the steady deluge of rain. All day long the rain had not relented. Satanick must surely be in a depressed mood today. Over what or who, Envi couldn’t’ fathom; though, if he had to wager a guess, he figured it had to do with someone in the lord devil’s life. Perhaps it was over that god Satanick would often visit – those days would often lead to rain. Or perhaps his wife or children said something to him to cause him to become down in the dumps. Envi shook his head at such a silly thing. Satanick might be the lord over this entire realm, but he certainly wore his emotions on his sleeve for the whole world to see.

Envi tried to not pay it much mind, as rainy days seemed to be somewhat common place these past few decades. He continued his duties around the castle and dealing with the other subordinates that popped in today in the meeting hall. Each one that arrived complained about the weather, but nobody mentioned or even asked about the one behind such downpours. Of course they wouldn’t, Envi snidely thought. Everyone was either too afraid or preoccupied with their own assignments to really ask how Satanick was doing. Envi honestly couldn’t blame them, though; he preferred they didn’t ask, as it would only cause him to further ruminate over what his lord could be depressed about this time. He had not yet checked on Satanick today, but perhaps he would need to stop by his room later to see if he was feeling any better if the rain did not relent anytime soon.

Dealing with the others was always a bit tiring for Envi. He could care less about Roc’s obsession with his pet shrimp or Hidou’s newest snuff film about an angel that he had captured. Sure, it gave Envi a bit of pleasure to hear how his fellow demons were fairing against the fight with the angels, but sitting in these high-backed chairs around this wooden table left him feeling bored and on-edge. At least there was some good news from the reports he was hearing. Envi enjoyed when he could slaughter an angel; he took pleasure in it for various reasons, but his dedication to Satanick and the cause was what his fealty really lie in.

Once the meeting was over – much to Envi’s relief – he decided that it would be best to see how his lord was faring. Even inside the meeting hall, the steady rhythm of rain could be heard outside the walls. Now walking down the hall to Satanick’s room, the steady droplets could be seen washing down the window panes.

Envi raised his knuckles to lightly rap on the door with his black gloves. He didn’t immediately expect to hear an answer from his lord, but after a few moments of silence, he frowned. He knocked again with no results. Hating to barge in – though he did announce his presence – Envi turned the handle of the door, slowly creaking it open so as to not disturb his lord if he was sleeping this sadness off. The light of the hallway spilled into the room, but even with its dim help, Envi could clearly see that Satanick was not around. A bit perturbed by that, Envi questioned where he could have gone. He hated to see Satanick in such a foul mood that he’d sit himself out in the rain. He once found Satanick perched on the edge of the roof, smoking as the rain poured down. Of course, he was perfectly safe up there, but Envi did not enjoy seeing him in such despair. Most instances he found trivial for Satanick to be upset over, but whatever they were, it clearly hit home for the devil lord.

Sighing, Envi turned on his heel, closing Satanick’s bedroom door behind himself. Now, the search began to find just where his lord was hiding.

So, he really was here.

The small, stone, hut-like building bared an open door that led down equally darkened steps into the depths of the lower dungeons. Envi recognized this place all too well; this was the place he had brought the devil lord’s brat to “teach him a lesson” so long ago. He snickered at that thought, but gave it little mind. Right now, today wasn’t about him or the past – it was about finding his lord and getting him out of this horrible rut.

Exiting out of the downpour, Envi made his way down the slightly wet steps – the door must have been open for quite some time to have allowed the rain to splatter down some of these stairs – his own soaked clothes, shoes, and body adding to these miniature puddles. As he reached the bottom, he heard the slight sobbing echoing down the dungeon hallway to the left. Sure enough, he recognized those pitiful sobs. Feeling his heart ache at his lord’s distress, Envi made his way towards the noise, his black shoes echoing in the hallway.

Reaching the last cell on the right hand-side of the corridor, Envi looked inside through the bars that hung over the small window in the iron-clad door. Dark as it might be in there, the red-eyed demon could make out the form of Satanick curled into a ball, sitting on the stone-cold floor. Sighing out, Envi, knocked on the door, wanting to alert his lord that he was here – though the man probably had heard him approaching. Still, he did not want to intrude any further than he already was.

“Sir?” Envi called out through the cell window. “It’s me. I’m coming in.” Without a word from Satanick but a little whimper of a cry, Envi reached for the handle of the door, pushing it open gently with a slight creak. Dark as it was, the ajar door seemed to help shed some extra light into the room. It made it slightly easier to see Satanick, his face lowered into his arms that sat crossed over his knees as they were pulled up to his chest. The lord over this entire realm looked like such a fragile child in such a sorry state as this. It wasn’t anything new, per se – Envi had seen him down in the dumps before plenty of times. Though, this one seemed to be extending for more than just a few hours. Envi could not help but wonder as to the reasoning behind this. However, if he had to take a proverbial stab at it, he assumed it had something to do with the little family of his that he had been so preoccupied with as of late.

Thinking of that flame devil and the bratty boy they had made Envi’s ire rise. He loathed that devil from another world. And why shouldn’t he? That lizard-handed wretch seemed to be nothing but a burden to his lord. Sure, it was nice to see Satanick smile when he would have a “fun” day with the flame devil or his child, but they also seemed to be a root cause for his lord to be more depressed lately.

Despicable….

“Envi?” Satanick mumbled out into his knees. This brought Envi back to reality, his eyes now focused on the devil a few feet in front of him.

“Yes, my lord?” Envi asked, ready and attentive to respond to his lord’s needs.

“Why did you come for me?” Satanick once again mumbled out. It took a moment for Envi to realize that this is what he had asked him.

Envi cocked his eyebrow over his left red eye that could be seen, the other raised up, obscured by his long bangs over his right eye. “Well, I could not find you anywhere inside or outside of the castle grounds. I’m glad I finally found you here. Maekami’s bar was next on my list of places to check.” Though, something told Envi that the devil just wanted to be left alone without any disturbances from other patrons.

His curiosity now piqued, Satanick raised his face up from his knees. Seeing the dark circles under his lord’s eyes and the way his purple stare seemed a bit faded, Envi felt a slight tug on his heart. He was used to seeing him this way, but it never got any easier. Though, a tiny twitch to the side of Satanick’s lip made Envi feel slightly more at peace; the smallest fraction of a smile broke through that gloomy face.

“Envi, you’re soaking wet,” Satanick said, stating the obvious. Envi could feel the cold droplets falling off of his hair and suit. The cold of the underground dungeon added to the chill from the rain that puddled at Envi’s feet.

“That’s what happens when I can’t find you, sir; I wandered around for a bit looking high and low.” Matter-of-fact, but still respectful in his tone, Envi pointed this out to his devil. Shaking his head at this, Satanick unfurled his right hand, snapping his fingers towards Envi. The demon immediately felt the surge of magic over him as all of the water literally evaporated off of him; it was as if he was never wet to begin with. Slightly embarrassed but appreciative his lord would do such a small favor as this, Envi bowed. “Thank you, Mr. Devil.”

“Mmm hmm,” Satanick hummed in response. Helpful as he might be, he still was not moving from his curled position on the ground. His arm drooped to his side, and he mindlessly stared forward at a wall.

Envi hated seeing him like this. Why did this man have to get so worked up and let the tiniest of things get under his skin? Well – truth be told – Envi did not exactly know the matter at heart, but he could only assume. Unsure what to say, Envi remained silent, hoping that his mere presence of having come to get his lord would help him get a move on from his sulking. Unfortunately, Satanick showed no notion of getting up from his spot.

After a few tense moments of silence, Satanick weakly whispered out, “Why is love complicated, Envi?”

What an absurd question to ask him of all people. Envi did not particularly enjoy these types of conversations – it made him feel a bit awkward, especially around Satanick – but he supposed some sort of response would be merited. “Is this about Lil, sir? Or that flame devil?” Envi tried to hold back the way he practically spat out Ivlis’s title.

No immediate answer was given, but soon Satanick mumbled out, “I horribly hurt someone I care about, Envi. All thanks to my own, stupid jump to conclusions.”

Ah, so it was about that otherworldly devil. Sighing out, Envi lightly crossed his arms over his chest. He did not mind showing a bit of agitation at such a thing. After all, to mope about someone so useless…. “Lord Devil, if I may be so bold, I think you take these matters too much to heart. Please, don’t torture yourself with such nonsense. You are free to hurt whomever you want.” Not exactly the most comforting of responses, but one Envi hoped would sink in to Satanick’s head one day. Frankly, he liked it better when his lord was carefree in his torture of that devil; now, all he did was mope around when their “relationship” was on the rocks.

Envi saw Satanick’s gaze now on him, and he shivered slightly. He knew his lord was a harsh man when he wanted to be, but it still surprised him to see how…broken he was over this. Envi was not the best with conversing, but he did offer this, “Would you like to talk about it, sir?”

Satanick seemed to cheer up a bit with this offer – well, “cheer up” as in lifting his sunken head up a bit to nod in affirmation. “Yeah,” he mumbled out. Unwrapping his left arm from his balled up stance, Satanick patted the ground next to him. “Come sit by me, Envi.” He must have noticed Envi’s hesitation at such a statement, as he added on, “Please.”

Loyal as ever, Envi swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and the slight flutter in his gut. He was not afraid of Satanick – well, not to the extreme that others were; he knew him well enough – but he was terrified of his own feelings that liked to creep up when Satanick made such gestures like this. Still, his number one priority was to fight angels and serve the devil; serve him, he would. Envi walked over to Satanick, sliding down the stone wall to the floor, sitting down so his legs were in front of him as Satanick still kept his knees curled to his chest. Nothing was spoken for a while, but Envi could hear the pounding of his own heart as he tried to calm it down. A fruitless effort once he realized Satanick had now leaned his head on Envi’s right shoulder. Feeling his master’s head resting on him in such a close manner had Envi biting his lip to remain composed as he felt the man’s horns and face so close to him. His long bangs over his right eye were a saving grace so he did not have to see Satanick’s face; too much of this could leave even the most loyal subordinate in a precarious situation. 

Envi felt Satanick’s deep sigh before he began speaking again. “What does one do after they’ve seriously hurt someone they care about, Envi? Death would be retribution enough, right?”

Unbeknownst to Satanick, the demon rolled his red eyes. “You’re not thinking clearly, my lord. Don’t say such things.” A pause. “Tell me, what happened?”

Bit by bit, Satanick spilled forth a fragmented story about Licorice and Ivlis and how a drunken confession had led to a torture session for the flame devil. Satanick hadn’t specified exactly _why_ he had tortured the devil on behalf of that brat, but Envi could sense it was something quite serious, so he let his curiosity die down ever so slightly. Envi tried to hold back the feeling of satisfaction when hearing how Satanick had put that fiery man back in his proper place; though, no pleasure could be found in listening to how heartbroken his lord was over such a thing.

“I thought that…. I thought that if I tortured Ivlis…I could finally get some closure to this whole thing. Now I’m even more confused and distraught that I have nothing to show for my efforts.”

Envi had rotated his head to turn to look at Satanick, yet just even seeing the messy black locks of Satanick’s head was enough to keep his heart pumping. He ignored these feelings as he tried to piece together what was happening from a logical perspective. “If I may, Mr. Devil; you interrogated the supposed perpetrator, but have you considered that…there could be another? Maybe you need to speak with them instead.”

If looks could kill; Satanick had swiveled his head to stare up at Envi’s implication, his eyes slightly narrowed. Purple eyes bore into bright red ones as he tried to process what this meant. Yes, he had factored in the possibility of Ivlis not being the culprit….

Licorice? No. No way was Licorice the one at fault. The thought had crossed his mind, but surely….

“No.” Satanick’s voice was cold as he denied this. “No. I refuse to believe that. Licorice is too naïve.” The idea of imagining Licorice in Ivlis’s place in that steel chair was pure lunacy. “He’s just a child, Envi.”

In the silence between them lie Envi’s unspoken words: _He’s also an adult._

Envi watched as the devil lord’s expression seemed to fall and crease as he once more hung his head. Feeling Satanick’s body shake slightly against his, Envi knew he was silently sobbing. Such brutal honesty from the goat demon had Envi questioning if he should have even said anything at all; perhaps listening was better than speaking. Too late now to regret such things. The echo of the outside deluge seemed to intensify to further add salt to the wound that Envi had opened.

“Mr. Devil?” Envi cautiously questioned.

Satanick shook his head back and forth against Envi’s jacket. “No, Envi. Hush. Please. I need time to…think.”

Guilt and regret ached the demon’s heart, but he remained calm in his duties. He silently nodded, obeying his master. Once again, Envi could not help but think of how messed up the devil’s little family was. Leaning his head back against the stone wall – his horns touching first – Envi closed his eyes, face raised slightly towards the ceiling. Such dissonance in his own body now; no wonder the rain would not relent if Satanick was feeling something worse than what Envi was feeling.

A cold, yet tight hand slid onto the top of his, and Envi’s eyes flew open. He knew all too well that Satanick was simply holding onto him for comfort, yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit comforted and even more at war with his own emotions.

“Just… sit with me,” Satanick whispered out, his tone sounding so defeated.

Digging himself an even deeper hole of confusion, Envi turned his wrist over so he could interlock his gloved fingers with his lords.

Neither spoke as the muffled downpour turned into a light patter as two horned beings tried to find solace in their own muddled, murky emotions. 


	7. Like Father, Like Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: If you have read the relationships and tags of this fic, you should have seen this coming. Yet once more, I am apologizing for this. We all suffer here!

Licorice mindlessly flipped another page of the book he was holding in his hands. Though, to be honest, not much reading was actually occurring. He had become distracted as his thoughts turned to Mother and his behavior over the past few days. One would assume he was going through the stages of grief with how his moods had shifted so dramatically. Concerned and curious would be understatements for what Licorice was feeling.

One morning, he had been on his way out of the castle into town, only to hear Ivlis grunting and mildly cursing. Of course, Licorice followed the noises to find Ivlis out behind the walls of their home to see Ivlis using a mixture of flames and summoning light projectiles to burn and pierce through targets filled with sand and covered with sackcloth – a common setup for target practice. It struck Licorice as strange to see his mother so riled up that he would be out here practicing on targets. After all, Ivlis had no reason to practice his skills; the flame devil knew how to fight, despite not having done so for quite a while. Licorice could clearly see Ivlis’s knitted brows, clenched teeth, and almost orange-hued hair from where he was peeking around the stone walls. He thought of calling out to Mother to ask him if he was doing alright, but he decided against it. After all, Ivlis was clearly upset about something – or someone – and Licorice did not want to risk angering him further. Such anger must have distracted the flame devil, as he soon was swearing, staring down at his own left hand. Licorice knew from his reaction that he had managed to burn himself with his own flame. Poor Mother couldn't even control his magic at that point - clumsy as he might be - and it made Licorice fear for his safety. 

That had only been one instance of Ivlis’s odd behaviors. Throughout the week, Ivlis had displayed such erratic emotions. One day, Licorice would find him quiet and brooding; the next, he would hear the soft crying of Ivlis behind closed doors when he thought no one was around. Seeing Mother in such turmoil had Licorice feeling just as confused as Ivlis was acting. He hadn’t even stayed much in his child form because he was worried about Mother’s sudden change in behavior. Plus, as an adult, he could be more helpful to the world’s affairs, should Ivlis ask for assistance – though he rarely did.

Just what was happening to Mother?

Licorice sat on the edge of his bed, now gripping at his white button-up shirt, as if squeezing his heart. The book lie tossed aside on his bed. It was no use to try to even read right now; all he could think about was Mother’s strange behavior. Licorice looked over at his bedside table. Had he read that correctly? It was already midnight, and he still found no desire to sleep. If anything, he felt restless. Yes, he was concerned for Mother, but he never brought forth his worries. To do so would only cause more unnecessary stress for Ivlis. Still, Licorice himself felt as if he was becoming stressed with his fears. Perhaps remaining as an adult for so long was finally taking its toll on him.

Shaking his head at such self-pitying thoughts, Licorice decided that this was enough. He couldn’t take these nauseating waves of turmoil that swirled inside of him. Such a tempest must be inside of Ivlis, as well, just based on his actions this week. Well, Licorice supposed that even at such a strange hour of the night, it might do some good for the both of them to air their storms out together. An adult he might be, but Licorice still found himself feeling just as timid yet bold like the evening he had come to sleep with Mama after a scary dream. He now couldn’t recall what the dream had been about, but he still remembered waking up to see Mama sliding back into bed, a tear still running down his cheek. Cuddling with Mama had seemed to help ease Ivlis back to sleep that night; perhaps it would work again once the two of them could both get some clarity on their own emotions.

Licorice headed out of his bedroom and down the hallway to Ivlis’s room, his bare feet barely making any noise on the cold, linoleum flooring. A bit embarrassed about asking for Mother’s help after days of dealing with these emotions, Licorice waited for a response as he knocked on the door to Ivlis’s room. He did not get an immediate response, nor did he hear any movement of Ivlis getting out of bed or light snoring. Licorice assumed that Ivlis was merely deep in sleep, so he quietly opened the door. Fear began to creep into his head, as he feared that something had once again happened to Ivlis when he noticed he was not asleep in the bed. Was it Father’s doing? Licorice began to feel the agitation rising in his chest as it mixed with trepidation. Just his luck for this to happen!

Not thinking clearly, Licorice immediately turned on his heel. He slammed hard into someone’s form, and he grunted, stumbling backwards. His eyes had shut at such a sudden impact, though he snapped them open right away to find out the source of this. His eyes widened when he realized he had bumped into Ivlis, causing him to also stumble backwards. Licorice thankfully had one of the double doors of the bedroom to hang onto; Mother was not so lucky, as he had tripped backwards over his own feet, landing lopsided on his back and elbows.

“M – Mother!” Licorice called down at him. “Are you okay?” He hadn’t meant to cause him to fall down or get hurt like this. Now the confused boy felt even more despondent for causing harm to the one he wanted to comfort and be comforted by.

“Ugggghhh,” Ivlis groaned out as he pushed himself up on his arms to a sitting position – well, he tried to sit. Licorice noticed he was having a hard time with such a simple motion. Was he that hurt?

As Licorice crouched down to offer a helping hand to Ivlis, he caught a whiff of something strong. He wasn’t quite sure what the stench exactly was, but he knew from the smell of Ivlis’s huffed breath that alcohol was certainly the main factor. “M…Mother, are you okay?” Licorice asked once more, a bit more gently this time. He could see from Ivlis’s jerky motions and the smell that the devil was quite drunk.

Ivlis finally met Licorice’s eyes with his own, and his suspicions were confirmed with how glazed and hazy Ivlis’s eyes looked. Underneath his eyes were slightly dark circles – as if the devil hadn’t slept well in days. Licorice no longer felt the seasick waves of his own feelings; right now, his focus was on Mother and how he had gotten himself into this predicament.

Ivlis now let out a slight chuckle, his earlier moment of frustration seemingly gone. “Heya, Lico,” he said, staring into the eyes of his son. “What brings you here?” From the way he was speaking so casually, drunk seemed to be an understatement to describe his current state.

Licorice wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Ivlis’s strange question, and he closed his agape mouth for a moment before speaking again. “Mother, you’re wasted. What happened?”

“Hmm? Wasted?” Ivlis lifted his right hand, waving his claw lazily as if to dispel Licorice’s words. “Don’t be silly. I only drank a little.” An obvious lie judging from the way he chuckled about it.

Looking Ivlis up and down in such a sprawled out position on the floor, Licorice couldn’t help but sigh. Mother’s sadness and anger must have gotten the better of him to have wallowed himself in liquor. His heart ached, but not in the way he felt like it should have in his own puzzled emotions. Right now, he felt…pity for the one whom he deeply cared about. Licorice’s face now took on a more serious yet compassionate tone. Lightly gripping onto Ivlis’s hand that was still hanging mid-air, Licorice stood up, pulling Ivlis along with him. Sloppily, the flame devil slid to his feet, looking as if he was about to fall over again. Knocking into him must have seriously thrown his balance off with such an intoxicated mind. Vaguely remembering how Satanick had helped him home and into bed, Licorice tucked himself underneath Ivlis’s right arm so the devil’s arm rested across his shoulders. He kept his hand around Ivlis’s wrist, not trusting the man to be able to hold onto him properly. A bit hesitant at this next step, Licorice wrapped his left arm around Ivlis’s waist to keep him stable. Almost immediately, Licorice felt the tingling in his arm traveling up the length of it and into his body, causing him to shudder.

No.

 _No, not now!_ he yelled at himself.

Timing was not his friend. He had experienced these “sensations” before. He was no stranger to these tingling sensations – he knew what they now meant – but now was horrible to be experiencing them yet again. Yet the more he moved with Ivlis to shuffle his intoxicated Mother to his bed, the more Licorice felt Ivlis’s body against his own and the way his skin moved underneath his dress shirt. Licorice tried to stifle these raging emotions.

Once at the edge of the bed, Licorice turned slightly to lower Ivlis onto the bedsheets. As he did, he could not help but notice how beautiful Mother truly was. That thought had crossed his mind a number of times, but one time in particular now resurfaced to the front of his mind. Licorice’s eyes widened as he stared down at Ivlis, flopped onto his back with his arms spread out. Behind that shirt lie Mother’s scarred chest; behind those pants….

Licorice’s eyes enlarged as he realized what was happening to his body now that his mind had begun to entertain these intrusive thoughts. He slid his hand out from underneath Ivlis’s waist. The motion of his fingertips over the fabric covering Ivlis’s skin was enough to send Licorice into even more desires driven by his nether region.

 _Stop_ , the reasoning side of his brain begged him. _Not again._

As his fingertips left his mother’s side, his already pounding heart jumped when Ivlis clasped his red claws around Licorice’s fingers. The man had raised his head up slightly to stare at the black nails and fingers that had “caressed” him. Licorice wasn’t quite sure what to make of the silence that followed; it was almost deafening if it had not been for the flow of blood that was rushing in his ears…and to another part of his body.

“Where have you been lately?” Ivlis asked, his voice much more breathy and whispered, with a tinge of sadness in it. Confused as to what Ivlis meant by such a thing, Licorice did not have to question this for long, as Ivlis continued. “You…you hurt me so badly, Satanick. And then you ignore me for days?” Ivlis’s glassy eyes now began to fill with small tears. “Why? Why did you do this?”

Ah, so that is what had happened; that was the reason behind Ivlis’s strange behaviors as of late. Father had hurt Mother, and now Mother was broken by it. Swallowing the lump in his throat – a ball of disgust and hurt – Licorice went to correct Mother that he was not Father, but Ivlis seemed to have other plans. Scooching upwards so he was in the center of the bed, Ivlis pulled Licorice down with him so the boy was now kneeling on the bed next to Ivlis’s left hand side, still holding onto Licorice’s hand over his body.

“Please…don’t leave. Stay with me.”

Mother’s heart-wrenching begs were not meant for him. Clearly, he was asking for Satanick to stay with him. Somehow in his drunken stupor, Ivlis now thought that the dark-haired, black-nailed devil in front of him was his lover. Even thinking that word to describe Father had Licorice feeling ill. Yes, he looked like his father. And now…he realized his libido was just as bad as that devil’s was. The thoughts of the past resurfaced. A cesspool of emotions bubbled in Licorice’s gut. What was the right thing to do? Should he reject Mother and run like his shaking legs were telling him to do? Should he lie next to Mother, tell him he was simply mistaken, but allow himself to be comforted with a simple cuddle? Or should he give in to these raging hormones?

As Licorice fought this internal war inside of himself, he found himself now perched on all fours over Ivlis. The young man huffed, his heart ready to beat out of his chest, and his lower half becoming tighter. Right now, the libido was his main driving force….

“I…I missed you,” Ivlis mumbled out.

Licorice could feel his heart being squeezed as Mother spoke those words. He knew all too well that they were for Father. It burned to hear sweet words from Ivlis being said to him…but not really _meant_ for him. As much as it pained him, Licorice still wanted to take them to heart. He wanted to feel like Ivlis would finally…accept him.

“Shh,” Licorice found himself saying, placing his right fingertips over Ivlis’s mouth. “Don’t say anything.” It would be best if Ivlis didn’t say any more, lest it destroy his already fragile heart; lest it destroy this once in a lifetime moment. Well…second-in-a-lifetime.

As Ivlis lie under him, staring up at Licorice with those glassy eyes, Licorice removed his fingertips, now replacing them with his mouth. He moaned when he could taste Ivlis’s lips on his. Soft, warm, and stinging with liquor; Licorice loved this sensation. It flooded down the nape of his neck and throughout his legs. It was all he could do to keep himself steady and propped up over Ivlis without landing on him. Younger he may be, but he was still technically taller than the one he looked up to. Licorice continued to moan as he moved his mouth over Ivlis’s, soon forcing open his lips with his own so he could slide his tongue in. Such a warm, burning pleasure was consuming Licorice, and he couldn’t understand why. Tears began to burn at his golden eyes as his cheeks also grew red hot, and he shut them tightly.

 _This is wrong!_ His mind screamed at him in protest, warning him of the dangers of these events once again. Last time, he had come to regret it, finding himself crying and shaking under his own bedsheets after he realized that he was no better than his father for forcing himself onto Ivlis. That night, Ivlis had cried out in his sleep for Satanick to stop, and Licorice found that the hand covered in semen was his own.

_You’re no better than him…._

Nonetheless, his body screamed at him to keep going on, denying his brain these harsh truths. Yes, Ivlis might be inebriated and not quite in his right mind – he was clearly missing Satanick of all people, searching for him even in the midst of the haze – but Licorice didn’t care. Without Father around, perhaps Mother would finally realize it was him that truly cared. After all, he would never hurt Mother. He would never make Mother cry. He would never abuse Mother. He would never abandon Mother like this.

_You’re wrong. It’s okay to comfort Mother right now._

Cracking open his teary eyes, Licorice stared at Ivlis’s closed eyelashes, which also held pinpricks of tears. Not sure if it was the alcohol, his own blush, or a combination of both, Ivlis’s cheeks also were becoming pink. With his right fingertips, Licorice placed them on Ivlis’s chin to keep his head facing upwards as the two continued to mouth at each other. The young man’s left hand had slipped to cradle the back of Ivlis’s head as his knees dug into the bed’s mattress on either side of Ivlis’s hips. The more he sloppily kissed Ivlis – sliding his tongue around his, licking at his teeth and lips – Licorice could feel the burning sensation in his lower region becoming hotter and harder.

There it was – that strange sensation once more. He hadn’t felt this for a while; it was only on rare nights when he felt this way. Talking to Emalf in the past had done little to help him find resolution with these feelings. He spoke of how he might be becoming abnormal, but the demon only waved it off, saying it would soon fade away – that it was perfectly normal to have these feelings.

Yes…. It was normal.

So, if that was the case, why did he feel as if he was doing something so secretive? And why did he feel such an exhilarating rush about not wanting to be found out? The contradicting war of keeping this secret to his grave while also the crippling fear of being caught had Licorice’s heart pumping even faster as his blood rushed through him.

Letting his tears fall onto Ivlis’s face, Licorice pulled back, saliva trailing between the two of them. He leaned back on his haunches, staring down at the wrinkled white shirt that covered Ivlis’s chest. Behind that fabric, Licorice could still recall exactly where each scar was on Mother’s body; scars that Father had made. Past or not, Licorice was unsure if he’d ever be able to fully forgive and forget these scars on Mother. Shaking his head to dispel thoughts of this – he did not want to interrupt the moment presented to him – Licorice began unbuttoning Ivlis’s white shirt. Even though he was awake and conscious, Ivlis kept his eyes closed, moaning at the slight touch of fingers on his skin as the air hit his now exposed chest. Licorice wasn’t totally sure how inebriated Ivlis was, but knowing how much Ivlis could drink, he suspected that he wouldn’t remember this…just like how he could not remember dinner with Father a few weeks ago.

 _It’s for the best_ , Licorice reminded himself. This self-talk seemed to help drown out the voice of reasoning in his mind. _Shut up_ , Licorice told that part of himself. Right now, temptation was all he could feel, and that is all he wanted to listen to.

After exposing Ivlis’s chest, Licorice now stared at the silver buckle of Ivlis’s belt – the one obstacle in his way from exposing Ivlis’s intimate area. As Licorice began to breathe even heavier now, feeling his body heating up badly to the point he felt he would burn, he decided on opening his own white shirt to free himself from these stuffy clothes. Now, both devils matched with their open shirts that hung over their frames.

Licorice could feel the tightness in his pants becoming even more uncomfortable. He hadn’t ever gotten this far before. Part of him still screamed to not go any further – that this was enough – but he found himself reaching down, unbuckling his own belt so he could easily unbutton and unzip himself. At least this offered some freedom to his aching, already hard member. Now that he had himself a bit more comfortable, Licorice reached out with shaking fingers to begin undoing Ivlis’s pants. Ivlis dug his claws into his bedsheets, his eyes cracking open to reveal glazed, hazy, and hooded eyes.

“P – Please,” Ivlis slurred out in a whisper. “Be gentle.”

Words spoken for another, but ones that Licorice would take to heart. He nodded, choosing to not speak; well, he felt if he tried at this point, his voice would only be a squeak. A bead of sweat ran down his brow as he undid the buckle and strap hiding Ivlis button to his pants. Licorice felt his heart jump when his fingers brushed over the tent forming in Ivlis’s pants. More sweat of excitement and anticipation ran down his face and back as he exposed the dark red boxers peeking out behind Ivlis’s undone black pants.

Licorice bent down, placing his left hand on Ivlis’s right shoulder to hold himself steady and Ivlis in place as he practically panted, his tongue hanging out to begin licking at Ivlis’s chest. Ivlis’s moans had Licorice feeling even hornier. He was the one making Ivlis moan; yes, him alone in this moment. The twitching fingers of his right hand trailed down Ivlis’s stomach and hip until he reached Ivlis’s manhood. Both men jumped when Licorice slid his fingers over the hardened member, now cupping his hand over Mother. Ivlis bucked into his hand, rubbing himself through his boxers against the palm that held him.

“S…Satanick,” Ivlis moaned, his head thrown back against the bedsheets.

Father’s name; not his.

No. It would never be his.

Licorice gritted his teeth, beginning to question if he should stop…. Foolish to think there was any going back now that they had gone this far.

It was now or never.

Pulling back, saliva dripping off his tongue as he left the trails on Ivlis’s chest, Licorice removed his hand from Ivlis’s penis. His fingers now gripped the top of the flame devil’s pants and boxers, ready to strip him down so he could finally take things all the way with Mother. Just imagining being so close to Mother - penetrating him - had Licorice practically burning up. 

_Mine_.

A knock at the door sounded, leaving Licorice visibly startled. His head whipped towards the right at the door. He feared it would be Poemi or Emalf, though it was incredibly rare for Poemi to come to Ivlis with a nightmare – she was a heavy sleeper. And it was past midnight now – Emalf would be asking for a reprimand if he ever came to wake Ivlis up at such an unruly hour lest it was an emergency. As Licorice considered who this late-night visitor was that was interrupting such a private moment, the door’s handle turned and the door creaked open.

Shocked purple eyes met frozen-in-fear yellow-orange ones as Father stared at son ready to undress Mother.


	8. Retribution

Satanick couldn’t take it any more – he had to see Ivlis. The guilt of what he had done had been eating at him all week long. Even with Envi’s attempts at cheering he up had done little to alleviate his mood; bunnies weren’t even helping pull him out of his funk with their cuteness. Sure, the consistent downpours sputtered on and off, but nothing quelled his restless spirit. Each cuddle and pet to a fluffy rabbit only spurred Satanick’s urge to hold and stroke the one man he had mercilessly tortured.

 _I miss him so much_ , he thought. Many, many times throughout the days, he would think this way. Regret was certainly the sporadic man-eater. Why couldn’t he have just talked it over with Ivlis? Such a major misunderstanding would never have had to happen if he had just been a bit more tender with the man he proclaimed to love. Why had he let such anger cloud his judgement? Satanick was the type of man that felt like his actions would be fully justified; any father that heard their child was potentially sexually involved with their lover should be allowed to have such a visceral reaction. Still, no amount of justification was making the devil lord pull himself out of self-made hole.

So many thoughts wriggled through his mind day after day, minute by minute. Thoughts of “what if?” liked to play repeatedly with his emotions. Still, one nagging little one ate at the back of his brain like a little roach….

_“…have you considered that…there could be another?”_

Envi’s words echoed like a bell that tolled for the dying. He did not blame his number one subordinate for asking such a question; he had merely been trying to help him out when he had found him moping in the dungeon. Envi was extremely faithful and logical, not as ruled by his emotions like this pathetic excuse of a devil was; at least, that’s what Satanick saw himself as. To try to shut out these intrusive and nauseating thoughts, the devil lord attempted to keep his world functioning as it always had been, but no amount of keeping in contact with others and busywork was helping his state of mind. Inner solitude was supposed to give him time to think, but isolating himself had only made things worse. He felt as if he could barely sleep these days, reliving the horrors of Ivlis’s pitiful screams and curses as he mutilated him. Sure, he had had healed him afterwards when the regret had kicked in, but that would not erase the trauma he still had inflicted on the man he loved. To make matters worse, that little cockroach in his head chewed and chewed the same hole as it continued to grow and grow.

_What if Licorice is the one to blame?_

A pure absurdity! That’s what he initially thought. How could his own child do such a thing to the one he admired and loved the most? Licorice was too naïve for those matters. Nevertheless, the boy _was_ a man….

Finally, not being able to hold back anymore, Satanick finally caved in; he would go visit Ivlis to talk things over. Communication was clearly lacking in this household, and he had nobody to blame but himself for this oversight. It was the middle of the night, but he couldn’t take it any longer; sunrise or sunset, he had to go make things right with Ivlis. He would apologize sincerely as much as he could until Ivlis was convinced of his genuineness. He decided against barging into the man’s bedroom window or even appearing inside of the room; a gentleman should knock and be as polite yet forthcoming as possible. With a deep breath, Satanick knocked on the door to Ivlis’s room. He thought he could hear some rustling and even a moan, so he imagined Ivlis was trying to get out of bed. Taking that as a signal that he was going to greet him, Satanick decided to let himself in.

....

The floor felt like it had opened up and he was beginning to fall into darkness as the devil lord’s deep purple gaze stared in horror at the scene before him. Licorice was sitting atop of Ivlis, his hands at the ready to pull down Ivlis’s open pants. Both devils had open shirts and had clearly been making out; Satanick could hear the heavy breathing, see the blush still across their faces, and see their slightly swollen lips. Even the air smelled of lust. Large, golden-yellow eyes met his, the young man frozen in fear as he realized whom he was staring at. The boy’s mouth hung open, as if he was trying to find the words to say, but they were not coming out. Whatever they were, Satanick was not in the mood to hear them.

Whatever excuses he could muster up were not going to convince Satanick of what he had just seen.

There would be no justification for such a thing.

Licorice stared in absolute terror as he saw his father’s countenance take on many expressions in a matter of seconds. He watched his father’s face change from shock, to disgust, to a placid expression. If it had not been for his narrowed eyes and the dark aura that was coming off of him, Licorice would have assumed he was merely disappointed. How erroneous a thought, he soon realized. For a minute, Licorice kneeled over Ivlis, his hands still in the waistband of Ivlis’s red boxers and black pants. Should he move; was that the appropriate thing to do in this situation? He opened his mouth, lips flapping, but no words were coming out. He realized that his throat was closed off as the words died right on his tongue. As soon as Satanick took a step towards them, Licorice found himself able to scramble off of Ivlis and off of the bed, standing off to the front side of the bed. Even with the extra bit of distance between them, Licorice still felt such icy cold fear spiking through his extremities. The hormones that had been pumping through him just a matter of seconds ago was now turning from a burning fire and ache to ice slicing its way throughout his bloodstream.

It took Ivlis a moment to realize that something was off, as he lowered his chin and head back down after having thrown it back among the sheets. In his intoxicated state, he was still not fully aware of what was occurring, nor were his reflexes up to par. He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, glancing towards Licorice, who was staring in fear in front of him. “Satanick?” he asked, speech still a bit off tone. “What’s wrong?” As Ivlis turned his head to the left, trying his best to not let the haze and swirling make him pass out, a quick glimpse of a figure in all black was the last thing he could recall.

Satanick shot a deadly glare over at Ivlis. Just looking at his extremely red and flushed face and glazed over, golden eyes, he knew that Ivlis had no clue what was truly going on; even he could figure out that much. Ivlis was the most awkward man he knew; there was no way that he would easily let Licorice do this to him. He had even called Licorice by his name – Satanick. To know that a drunken Ivlis would assume he was his sexual partner of the evening had the devil lord feeling even more confused as to if he should be flattered Ivlis was thinking of him, or if Ivlis only thought of him as a sexual fiend.

Still, seeing Ivlis in this sickening state made him feel just as ill. Satanick flicked his right hand out, sending out a surge of magic right into Ivlis. The flame devil’s eyes widened a moment as he was slammed back into the back wall among the hanging curtains. The back of his head hit the wall, and Ivlis slumped over with his head lulling to the left side, his arms and legs splayed out beside him. Satanick almost felt relieved seeing Ivlis unconscious; at least he wouldn’t have to deal with this horror show.

Those deep, dark purple eyes now pierced Licorice. Satanick said nothing at first, merely glaring at his son, who stood there with his open shirt and open pants. He hated that he could see the blush still on Licorice’s cheeks despite his trembling. The boy’s mouth hung open slightly, and he flapped his lips for a moment before he was able to stammer out, “F – Father, I –.”

With a mere wave of his hand, Satanick silenced Licorice by sending out a quick spell. The already petrified man stood completely frozen now, and his lips immediately shut, as if held together by invisible stitches. As much as it pained the devil to do this to his own son, he did not want to hear the boy’s voice or excuses. Even looking at him right now filled him with a concoction of anger, disgust, and sadness like he’d never experienced before. It was one thing to have been told this horrible truth from a drunken evening; it was quite another to see it in the flesh.

“So, my fears were right,” Satanick finally spoke. “You weren’t lying. You didn’t simply have sex with Ivlis. You forced yourself onto him, didn’t you, Licorice?” He knew the boy could not speak, but he still left these open-ended questions hang in the air. He wanted him to think deeply about what he had been doing…to let it eat at Licorice the way he had been letting it devour him day after day.

Licorice’s eyes widened and shook as he felt the spell binding him to the floor. No physical objects were present, but he could not do much of anything at this point in time except stare with trepidation at the glaring eyes and dark aura that surrounded his father. Licorice was not particularly afraid of his father – he trusted that the man would never harm him – but to even have him do this much to him left Licorice in a predicament he never thought would be something he’d have to deal with. Just what did he mean about his fears being correct? When had Father started suspecting him of his past sin with Mother? It finally dawned on him – the dinner with his old man. He tried to reflect on that hazy evening – that one fatal evening that now came back to haunt him. Licorice wanted to protest – to try to explain himself to Satanick – but he found no way to get his lips to part. He moaned in the back of his throat, trying to make the words futilely come out. If he could just explain himself a bit better; if he could somehow shed some light onto this situation.

Of course, even he knew the light would only look glaring and harsh to the realities in front of them.

Desperately, Licorice wanted to correct his old man, though he himself was the child. So much he longed to tell Satanick what a horrible man he was to have strung Mother along all these years, only to tease him constantly with the prospect of love. Love should not mean torturing one member of the relationship, yet Father continued to display such brutality; his mouth would speak love, but his actions showed otherwise. Internally, Licorice felt that he would never stoop to such matters like his father had; he would treat Mother a million times better. Think these things he might, but Licorice would never be so brazen to ever speak such things to his Father's face.

Yet, the truth was hard to ignore when it was right in front of him, laid out like he was no longer present in his own body, watching a scene unfold on a stage. From the outside looking in, _he_ was the perpetrator forcing himself onto a vulnerable family member. Such a thought disgusted Licorice all over again, and he felt sick thinking that he was just as forceful as the man he claimed to hate.

Lost in thought, Licorice internally jumped when he saw Satanick now standing directly in front of him, only a few centimetres taller than he was. The young man’s eyes shook in an unknown fear. Father had never stared at him with such…malice. Naturally, he wanted to try to run or plead, but such a thing was impossible in this state. For a while, all they did was stare at each other, the occasional shaky breaths exchanged between them as father stared at son.

If he could have flinched, Licorice would have when Satanick tightly gripped at his shoulders. The young man’s eyes widened, and he let out a little groan in the back of his throat, as if to plead for Satanick to be merciful to him. He had not seen much of the torture he had ever dealt out to Mother, but Licorice honestly worried that the same thing could be done to him. His large eyes peered back at Satanick as Satanick kept his hands locked onto the boy’s shoulders to keep him truly focused on him.

Tears immediately sprung up in the bottom of Satanick’s eyes, and they soon spilled out as he gritted his teeth, staring into the frightened eyes of his son. This boy – this man; whatever he was – was still his child; his flesh and blood. Part of him screamed to punish the boy – to teach him a lesson on having encroached on someone precious to him and into affairs that were not his to mess with.

Horrible!

To even think of hurting his boy…. A man’s form he might be in right now, but Satanick could still see that small, childlike form of his son in those eyes. All the air was being drained from Satanick’s lungs as disaster literally felt like it was upon him.

The life he had been trying to build up with this new little family felt like it was all crumbling down around him….

“H – How….” The devil lord swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself from choking on his own screams that were trapped inside of his esophagus. “How could you do this, Lico?”

Of course, the boy couldn’t answer him, nor did Satanick want to hear the lies and “reasons” behind this. Nothing would serve as a good enough reason in his eyes. This situation…was it truly irreparable?

Satanick dug his hands into Licorice’s shoulders as he tried to compose himself. He had to get home; he had to find a way to fix this. As dreadful as he felt, he had to figure something out. In the meantime, he felt like all he could do right now was scream. But not here; here was not the most feasible spot. After all, he did not want to alert anyone else in this castle to the breakdown of his entire being. 

Reaching up, Satanick placed his right hand over Licorice’s face, obscuring his terrified eyes. He ignored the moan Licorice made, soon sending out a quick spell right into Licorice’s head. The stiff man soon began to crumple as he was put to sleep, and Satanick's left hand - still grasping at Licorice’s white shirt - held him in the air as the boy’s head lolled to the side. Now limp, Satanick looked down at Licorice’s closed eyes and almost peaceful expression. He hated to have used magic on his child like this to get him to comply, but Satanick could not have any interruptions right now.

Three things lingered in his mind.

Bending down, Satanick picked up and slung Licorice over his left shoulder, letting his arms dangle behind his back. He then made his way back over to the unconscious Ivlis, grabbing ahold of his wrist with his free right hand as the other held Licorice in place around his waist. As the tears continued to rain down his face, and his chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, Satanick transported his messy little family into his home. Satanick hefted Licorice off of his shoulder, letting him drop to his bed. Satanick then picked up the crumpled Ivlis and laid him on the opposite side of the bed.

The two people who had been the cause of so much joy and pain in his life lie unconscious on his bed, still in their half-dressed states. Seeing them this way, it made the gravity of the situation all that more dire.

With mission one now taken care of, Satanick felt he had earned the right to move on to step two.

Dropping to his knees, Satanick began to scream. Pure, unadulterated screaming. He gripped at his hair, yanking on the strands, fingers digging into his scalp, as he simply yelled over and over again in deep, long, penetrating screams that ripped right from his chest and throat. The uncomfortable, squirming, writhing thoughts and images of what he had just seen twisted their way through his whole body. Curling up on the ground, his chest on his knees, Satanick screamed and screamed and screamed.

He did not even notice when Envi appeared at his side. The subordinate had wrapped his left arm around the devil’s shoulders, his right hand around Satanick’s wrist, presumably to get the man to release his death grip on his own hair. All Satanick could hear were his disparaging wails echoing back in his own ears, feeling his raw throat beginning to bleed, leaving a coppery taste in his mouth. His blurred vision of tears could barely make out Envi’s horrified expression as his mouth moved. Was Envi trying to speak to him? Come to think of it, he'd never seen that look of terror on Envi’s face before. Still, the demon's mouth moved as his highly concerned red eyes bore into Satanick's. 

Funny.

The devil lord couldn’t hear anything but someone's incessant yelling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine finding out the most horrible news in the world; your heart literally feeling like it's been ripped out of your chest. I hope I was able to convey that in this chapter. Poor Satanick; so painful. :( 
> 
> But hope you enjoyed somehow or other, lol. :P


	9. Mad Scientist

Envi could not recall the last time he had been this deeply concerned for his lord. The sudden downpour that had begun was his first indication that the Devil Lord was downtrodden; however, what pierced right through the demon’s heart was hearing the blood-curdling scream that was coming from Satanick’s room. It had echoed down the hallways, interrupting him as he pored over a report that had been presented to him earlier in the meeting hall. At first, the muffled scream through the walls had him slightly perturbed and rising to his feet. The more it continued and grew louder as he bolted to his lord’s room had Envi on immense alert. Was Satanick is grave danger? Envi’s blood began to boil at that thought, imagining the way he could eviscerate the scum that dare hurt his lord in such a manner to holler like this.

That had been days ago now that Envi recollected over the events. To see Satanick on his knees in practically a fetal positon, pulling at his hair, as a scream ripped out of his throat and tears gushed down his cheeks had left Envi in such a confounded state that he was unsure what to do or how to approach him. The best he had been able to do that day was rush to his side to wrap an arm around Satanick, asking him what the matter was. Even now, Envi could still see the devil’s purple yet bloodshot eyes staring at him but not really _looking_ at him as Envi tried to get him to respond to him; it was almost as if the man could not hear a single word from Envi. The screams were so deep – so painful – that it drilled right through Envi’s ears into his brain and heart. All he could do for Satanick at that time was hold onto him, waiting for his lord to stop the incessant yells. If others came rushing into the room, Envi sent them away with a verbal snap and glower that would surely kill if looks could. Days may have passed, but he could still vividly remember it all so clearly even among his own confusion.

Envi was still left in the dark about what had caused Satanick to become so distraught – his lord had not said a single thing to him about what he was so devastated over. Though, Envi harbored a guess as to what the root of the problem was. His attention had been on Satanick that evening as he allowed his devil lord to yell and sob until he had literally tired himself out. Envi was worried he had passed out from such visceral, raw feelings, and he debated about waking him up. However, he realized that sleep in any of its forms was a blessing. Envi cared deeply for Satanick, so allowing him to lie into his side as he slumbered with his chin down had Envi feeling an array of emotions. Still, even with his lord sleeping on him, Envi could clearly see both the flame devil and the son on the bed passed out as well, from the looks of it. It slightly sickened Envi to see these two here in Satanick’s room, but it further left him feeling ill and confounded as to why in the world both of their shirts and pants were clearly undone.

_I knew this little family of his would only cause him further problems._

Envi could not help but think such a thing. He did not want to see his lord suffer; yet, ever since these two had entered his life, Satanick’s emotions were spiraling on this rollercoaster. If only there was a way he could help it to stop. Still, no matter the amount of advice he could present to Satanick, it was another matter entirely if he would ever adhere to such things.

Now, Envi sat in the foyer, his right cheek resting against his curled up, black-gloved fingers. He stared outside at the gloomy sky as the rain continued to spill down from the sky. It was not as intense as it had first been three days ago, but it still left Envi in a foul mood of his own. The rain wasn’t exactly the most pleasing thing in the world; it only served as a reminder how broken Satanick currently was. Envi had not seen him for more than intermittent periods at a time. If his lord was not in his bedroom, he was off downstairs, but not in the dungeons. In fact, Envi could hear him at all hours of the day tinkering with something. The occasional bangs, grunts, and cursing indicated to Envi that whatever he was “creating” down there was surely something to do with the current predicament. Satanick was quite the inventor, true as it might be, but Envi found it quite curious that he was off inventing at a time like this considering his fragile mental state.

Envi would bring trays of food to Satanick; the man barely showed up for any meals, and it ached to see him take a measly bite out of the items that Envi would bring to him often. Normally, the demon would hound Satanick to at least attempt to eat something – now more than ever would have been the appropriate time to do so; yet, he could not bring himself to add further pressure to this man who was already on the edge. His eyes looked so heavy and tired and apparent dark bags began to form underneath them. At times, he would simply nod at Envi when the demon would arrive without any other interaction. Other days, he would muster out a weak yet deep-toned, “Thank you.” Envi would always leave him to his busywork, saving his deep sighs for after he had left the bedroom or basement - wherever Satanick had decided to hole himself up in for that day.

Envi still had no clues as to what the Devil Lord was up to with this new project that he had decided to undertake. However, Envi could gather it was all thanks to those two devils that still remained on Satanick’s bed. From what Envi had seen, both Ivlis and Licorice had been taken care of – their shirts and pants were once more buttoned, and it looked as if both were merely sleeping peacefully. Had it not been for the amount of time that had passed, one would assume such a thing. Perhaps Satanick was keeping them in a slumbering state until he finished this endeavor?

Question after question continued to haunt and eat at Envi, though each day became a bit easier – at least, he tried to convince himself of such a thing. The downpours were not as torrential, yet the rain was still present. Envi closed his eyes, listening to the steady patter of the droplets hitting the large window panes. He uncurled his hand to sweep his fingers through his long bangs that hung over his right eye.

“Mr. Devil,” Envi sighed out to himself. “Just what are you planning?”

Listening to the steady rhythm of the rain and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, Envi found himself almost drifting off in a slumber of his own. He soon forced his eyes open, ashamed at himself that he would allow himself to slowly sink into sleep in such an open area. Was he that wore out from his never-ceasing worry?

“Get a grip,” he reprimanded himself. The demon pushed himself up from the armchair to stretch his long legs. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one else had snuck by to see him in such a vulnerable position. Determining he was truly alone, Envi decided that it was time to check once more on Satanick. After all, he hadn’t yet been seen today; even his fiddling around in the basement was quite low in comparison to the usual dissonance echoing in the hallways.

Envi’s shoes echoed off the tiled floors as he made his way to his lord’s room, wondering if he was perhaps resting in there. That would be a small blessing to the demon to know that the man was finally sleeping should that be the case. At the door, Envi raised his gloved hand, rapping on it with his knuckles. He waited to see if he heard any movement to notify him that Satanick was in there. A few seconds ticked by; Envi called out, “Sir? I’m coming in.”

Envi did not like to intrude upon his lord, but these days, he could not be too careful. Turning the handle, Envi carefully creaked open the door lest he disturb Satanick sleeping.

Yes.

Satanick was, in fact, in the room.

Standing at the foot of the bed in the dark room – his drapes were shut to the balcony windows – stood Satanick. Barely visible in the dark lighting, Envi could see he wasn’t in his usual suit attire, dressed down to simply his white dress shirt, dark pants, and black socks. It was as if the man did not care to be his best dressed self today. The man’s eyes were focused down on Ivlis and Licorice. Accessing the situation, both of them were still sleeping – well, unconscious slumber was probably the proper term at this point. Envi stood in the doorway for a moment, wondering what was running through Satanick’s mind as he silently stood in front of the two that had caused him such distress. Envi suspected that Satanick knew of his distaste for these men, though, his lord never reprimanded him for such a thing; to be fair, Envi had not made it verbally known, except for that one occasion where that bratty Licorice had threatened the life of his lord in his sickness. It still confounded Envi that Satanick could be so forgiving and kind to such creatures that had little to no respect for such a man.

As Envi reminisced over the past – unsure what to say or do for Satanick at this point in time – the pitter-patter of the rain rolling down the glass and windowsills was the only noise before Envi decided to break the silence.

“Mr. Devil?” Envi called out. “Are you…okay?” Even asking such a question felt ludicrous; of course his lord was not okay. Who would be in this obvious distress? Still, Envi wanted to reach out and do…something to help ease this man’s suffering. Envi began to take a step forward, once more saying, “Sir,” to get his lord’s attention.

Whether Satanick had heard him or not or was deliberately ignoring him, Envi could not be sure. However, one thing was for sure – Satanick was too preoccupied in his current train of thought.

As Envi took yet another step forward, he noticed a slight movement by Satanick’s hip. Even in the dark room, Envi could ascertain it was an object of some sort. Was this what the devil lord had been hounding over these past few days? A silly contraption? Envi was unsure what to make of the strange object. It had a handle that Satanick was gripping tightly, his knuckles blanched from how hard he was holding it. There was a slight barrel that protruded from the handle, albeit it slightly stubby. What Envi could not understand was the odd bowl shape that attached to the end of the barrel.

Envi knew Satanick had made quite a few strange items in the past, such as a device that could “predict future hypotheses,” or so he said. Then there was that strange robot that was still occasionally seen wandering the castle. Of course, it had to have rabbit features given to it with his lord’s immense love for those fluffy critters. That slight reminder only further pricked at the demon of his lord’s despair over any rabbits that passed in his kingdom.

Yes, Satanick was the ruler of this world, and as such, he could command and declare whatever he desired. However, no one else seemed to notice – or care to the degree that Envi did – that Satanick was more than just a powerful monarch. A side of him that many did not see how deeply fragile this man was; how the smallest thing could send him over the edge into both madness and sadness.

Envi’s heart ached even further now that he had unintentionally recalled these moments. His mind was solely focused on this man and serving him, yet even Satancik's personal emotions deeply affected this loyal demon.

The movement of Satanick’s arm stretching out in front of himself had Envi now refocusing his attention to the matter at hand. Envi watched in an almost mystified trance as he watched Satanick aim the object at the flame devil. Satanick’s face was clearly pained as he did so; the furrowed brow, clenching of his jaw, and silent tears that ran down his cheeks was evidence enough of that. Soon, he pulled the “trigger” on the object’s handle.

Envi wasn’t quite sure what to expect from such a thing, but it surprised him a bit to see Ivlis’s body jerk slightly at this, only to once more remain peacefully still in slumber. No sound or anything visible had emitted from this crazed contraption, yet it clearly had some sort of effect. Whatever it was, it left Satanick choking out a slight sob as he now turned the item towards his son. A slight pause was given before he pulled the trigger again; Licorice’s body also convulsed at this…whatever this was.

Envi was not really concerned about the state of the two devils on his lord’s bed; rather, he was more curious than fearful as to what his lord had just done as he slowly lowered his arm back to his side. Envi swallowed, trying to get saliva back into his mouth as he gathered his voice to call back out to Satanick. Perhaps now that he was finished with this apparent mission of his, Envi could lend a helping hand.

“Lord Devil?”

Envi felt his blood run cold the next instant as he watched Satanick now raise his arm once more – this time, pointing the bowl-like barrel at his head. By only a few centimeters, Satanick had it poised at his right temple. As Envi finally felt fear creeping down his spine and his feet becoming cold despite the blood pumping quickly throughout his veins, Satanick closed his eyes. His face appeared almost…calm.

Despite this, Envi felt the crippling fear of the unknown now seeping through every ounce of his body. Frozen for a moment, Envi tried to process what in the world his lord was doing.

What had he done to those devils?

What was he planning to do to himself?

Whatever it was, Envi did not like this uncertainty he felt.

Satanick’s right index finger began to gently squeeze the trigger….

“SATANICK!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I am so incredibly sorry that it has been a whole month since I last updated this series! Please forgive me for keeping you waiting! m ( _ _ ) m
> 
> Work has picked up again, so it's hard to balance all that with my fave hobby, but I have not forgotten this. Long story short, I know how I would like to end this series. I apologize once more for the slightly shorter chapter, but next one should be the grand finale. 
> 
> I also worry how this will be received, but I assure you, it is not what it looks like. No spoilers, but I promise that it is not going to be THAT type of ending. 
> 
> Again, I direct your attention to Satanick's ability to create the bizarre such as in the Attack! Devilish Style and Truth comics. So, why not? ¯_ (ツ)_/¯
> 
> You shall have to wait and see how this all comes together in the end. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking around! I truly appreciate and love you all! <3


	10. Fabricated Restoration

Envi stared down at Satanick, who was staring back up at his subordinate with enlarged purple eyes. Envi gazed right back at him with eyes that were just as large. What had he just done? He could not honestly remember rushing over to Satanick, let alone having tackled his lord to the floor. But surely that was what must have occurred, as Envi was hovering over Satanick, his knees on either side of the devil lord’s hips as Envi’s black-gloved hands were wrapped around Satanick’s shoulders, pinning him to the rug in his own room. The mysterious object was still clutched in Satanick’s hand, though his arms were spread out on either side of him as he simply stared in shock up at his number one subordinate.

If he had not some sort of aplomb in him, Envi might have lost all dignity with being so close to Satanick in such a precarious manner. However, he quickly shoved those wayward and intrusive thoughts to the side. Now was not the time to think about such silly, trivial things. Right now, Satanick’s wellbeing was at stake, and it was his duty to serve him to the fullest - to make sure he was truly well.

“Satanick,” Envi gasped out, his tone almost reprimanding like that towards a child. “Just what in the world do you think you are doing?!” Even as the words slipped past his lips, Envi felt as if he should suck them back in. Who was he to really correct his lord on whatever he pleased. It was true that he had become annoyed at some of Satanick’s behaviors over the years, but never had he imagined a day when he would be in this predicament. Be that as it may, Envi still could not allow Satanick to take such… drastic measures into his own hands.

The devil’s wide eyes continued to stare up into Envi’s piercing red ones, blinking a few times as if trying to process what had just occurred. The tears that had been previously running down his cheeks had now ceased, leaving behind cold, wet streaks on his pale cheeks. In a way, they were almost a refreshing wake-up call to the devil. That is to say, it helped wake him to the reality of why such a thing had to be done. With a somewhat gentle yet sad smile, Satanick gazed back at Envi. Even amongst the clear pain in his eyes, Envi saw a sense of…peace?

Envi’s breath stopped for a moment when he felt Satanick’s left hand on his vest. His eyes went down to see Satanick’s pale fingers and black nails lightly touching him, but just enough for the demon to lose coherent thought for a few seconds. Envi quickly shoved aside his personal bouts of confusion to once more focus on Satanick.

“Envi,” Satanick began. His voice did not sound annoyed with his most devote follower, nor did it sound happy, despite his sad smile. It was a melancholic tone that issued from him, which only further added to Envi’s inner turmoil on how he should be feeling about this situation. “You really do worry too much.”

 _Well, yes_ , Envi wanted to retort, but he did not. Instead, he simply gazed at Satanick in his usual stoicism, though leaks of high concern dripped through. “Mr. Devil, I don’t know what is going through your head these days, but you are not thinking clearly.” The little chuckle that Satanick gave only heightened Envi’s sensitivity; such a sad, defeated sigh of a laugh.

“You’re right, Envi. I must admit – I really have not been myself as of late.” Satanick proceeded to raise up a bit, and Envi immediately stood up to allow Satanick to sit. Sitting on the rug with his legs now sprawled out in front of him, Envi could not help but notice the way his lord’s shoulders drooped as he stared forward, his gaze not focusing on anything in particular. Envi kept a watchful gaze on Satanick as he laid his arms across his knees, his violet eyes now staring at that contraption of his. A few seconds of silence passed between the two men. Even the very air seemed to weigh heavy with unspoken tension and despair that it was suffocating.

Satanick was the first to speak.

“Funny, isn’t it?” His voice was deep yet rooted in despair as he spoke. “I have been able to create so many things, Envi. Not just inventions; I mean life itself. I brought forth worlds…creatures…. Yet I can’t even control something as simple as time. I can’t…erase the past.”

Pausing a moment in his speech, Envi wondered if he should say something, or to simply let the silence speak for itself as he began to deduce what Satanick’s true intentions were in this lavish display. Shortly after, Envi’s suspicions were confirmed when Satanick whispered out, “But I can erase the memories.”

Envi looked down into Satanick’s face to see those broken and dark eyes still staring down at the invention in his hand. Knowing that the device was not something that could seriously injure or harm his lord had Envi feeling a bit of relief, yet he could not help but feel almost…scared with these disparaging words. His heart drummed in his chest as he tried to swallow back the lump forming in his throat.

To have Satanick erase something of himself…. What an absurd thought; Satanick really was not thinking. How could someone willingly erase their memories? Such a sentiment was not lost on the demon; if he could, he would gladly have erased many of the unpleasant times in his own life. But to imagine that Satanick would do something so rash….

Would it still be Satanick? After all, Envi could not imagine the emotional damage that Satanick had endured these past few weeks, nor did he ever wish to see him suffer in such a way. Be that as it may, Envi also could not bear the idea that Satanick could somehow erase more than he bargained for.

“Sir.” Envi found himself breathing out, amazed that his voice even still worked at this point. “Will you truly…be okay with this?” Not one to want to question his lord, Envi debated if he should even be harboring these doubts. Still, someone needed to be the voice of reasoning in this room today. “You want to change something that…. Well, perhaps time is not something to be trifled with?” The demon froze when Satanick’s glassy eyes met his once more, pricking the demon’s heart. Even with such melancholy clearly written across every fiber of Satanick’s being, Envi now felt remorse for what he had just spouted out.

“I already told you, Envi,” Satanick spoke once more, that listless tone still hanging over his voice. “Time can never be undone. Us immortals know that better than anyone.” He gave another hurt smile at the demon before casting down his eyes once more at the object hanging limply in his hands. “But I want to forget. I want to forget all of this pain.” He let out a sigh, and Envi could hear how truly tired it sounded. “Perhaps someone like me does not even deserve that mercy.”

Envi pressed his lips together to keep himself from shouting out that such statements were ludicrous. Satanick might be a devil with sadomasochistic tendencies, but even he…. Even he deserved to be free from misery. The goat demon found himself clenching his gloved fingers tightly into his palms as he tried to keep his composur; to lose any more of it in front of Satanick was only going to damage him.

Whether he imagined the devastation would be Satanick’s or his own undoing, he did not know, nor did he care to think too deeply on it.

“What good is it to be a powerful devil lord if I can’t even change the past? I – I thought that if I could erase the past few days…perhaps all could be forgotten.” Satanick continued his monologue before once more staring up at Envi. “I have thought this through, Envi. It’s the only way. I thought about… erasing the initial incident when the first…time occurred. But I soon realized, I don’t know when that was.” He feared if he tried to calculate when that was without knowing concrete dates, he could very well risk all the progress that he had made in his relationship with Ivlis.

Was that a risk he was willing to take? He honestly wasn’t sure.

He did not want to go back to the way things used to be when he delighted in making the flame devil cry and scream for fun; when Ivlis would look at him with such disdain. Yes, their relationship was far from perfect, and it nagged at him to completely erase the memories of the past, but what good would that do in the end? He might not be able to pinpoint the time when Licorice first…. To even think of such a thing made Satanick’s heart ache once more and the bile begin to rise in his throat. A deranged sadomasochist he might be in the eyes of others, but even he knew when something was so detrimental to those he cherished.

Yet perhaps…all of this was out of a pure, selfish heart. For his own desire to be happy.

Just once…. Just once Satanick wanted some modicum of normalcy; of love, of family….

Feeling as if he was truly going in circles at this point, tears burned Satanick’s eyes as they now overflowed to roll down his cheeks. He hiccupped in the back of his throat as he tried to regain control, but all he could feel was piercing, slicing pain inside of his head and his heart. At this point in time, a physical manifestation of such pain would honestly have been preferable than the toll this was taking on him.

Envi could only watch as Satanick once more sobbed and blubbered, his dark hair hanging over his face as he hung his head, tears cascading onto the rug and the invention.

That’s right – that comical-looking object could end this pain for Satanick.

_Who am I to deny him to end this suffering?_

As much as it pained him to fear the unknown – the “what-ifs” of what could go wrong if this ridiculous experiment of his failed – Envi could not in good conscious ignore the disparaging cries of this broken man; a man that was the one thing that Envi cared most about in this whole realm.

“Mr. Devil,” Envi found his voice saying, surprised at how calm his tone was despite the swirling anxiety inside of him. “I.... I will not stop you from this. I apologize that I was so abrupt with you.” Envi bowed himself low at the waist, his long olive-colored hair draping over his face and shoulder as he hung his head in a sign of respect for his lord. How foolish he had been to interrupt Satanick in his most fragile moment. His eyes were shut in apology, and he could only hope that the expression on his face was one of control and not one of nauseating fear of the unknown.

A gentle touch to the top of his head had Envi shudder in a way he was unsure of. He slowly lifted his head, his long bangs once more obscuring his right eye as he looked into the wet face of Satanick, his glistening purple eyes practically glowing with his tears. Envi felt breathless once more as Satanick gave him a genuine smile. As heartbreaking as it might be to see his lord in such a sorry state, Envi could not help but feel his heart tighten when Satanick gave him such a look. It almost made Envi fear that this was the look of a parting gift. Such a thing filled him back to the brim of his being with crippling dread that he might be losing a piece of Satanick. Yet such things were not his place to interfere with; he had to remind himself of that.

After all, Satanick did not belong to him, nor to anyone.

In a strange way, Envi was almost glad when Satanick lowered his left hand off of Envi’s head to now replace the movement with his right arm raising. Once more, the device was pointed at his right temple, yet this time, the expression on Satanick’s face was what resembled a look of saving grace – of relief that perhaps his misery could finally be put to rest.

“Envi,” Satanick whispered out. “Thank you, my friend.”

No sound, no light – nothing emanated from this gadget, but Envi still found himself taken aback to see Satanick’s body lightly jolt. Time seemed to momentarily slow down as Envi watched the devil lord’s eyelids droop shut and his body begin to go limp. Envi did not realize that he must have moved forward to slide onto his knees behind Satanick. The man collapsed backwards onto Envi’s lap, his head tilting back enough so his curled, tree-like horns hit the ground first. The devil’s arms now hung down, the catalytic object slipping from his porcelain fingers as he simply lie sprawled out over Envi. The demon stared down into Satanick’s face, his features no longer contorted in agony. In fact, he wore almost a blissful expression across his closed eyes as he steadily breathed in and out through his nostrils.

Sitting in the now deafening silence, Envi was unsure what to do with his hands. He simply sat like this for what felt like minutes on end as he tried to comprehend everything that had just occurred. He must have been in this position for quite some time, he realized, when he felt his feet becoming numb inside of his dress shoes. Slowly breathing out a sigh of his own, Envi decided perhaps it was best to let his devil rest without his direct supervision. Looking around, Envi debated if he should just slide Satanick off of his lap and leave him to sleep on the rug, but such a thing felt disrespectful to the man. With a sigh that was much heavier this time, Envi carefully slid an arm underneath Satanick’s knees and behind his shoulders. He was a bit taller than Envi, so lifting him was a tiny struggle, but Envi managed to gently slide Satanick onto the nearby bed next to Licorice.

With his lord now in a more comfortable resting spot, Envi stepped back from his side, looking out over the strange scene before him. Three sleeping devils, all lined up side by side as they rested on Satanick’s large bed. It was enough for Envi to feel a mixture of confusion, disgust, and grief. Just how in the world has his once collected devil let himself become so engrossed in such a muddled family? It was not Envi’s place to question his lord, nor would he with such a delicate subject, but it still pained the demon to know that Satanick had slowly been falling deeper and deeper into this swamp of a family he had created.

Envi let out another deep sigh, hoping that somehow this would relieve the pressure he felt inside of his chest and brain; of course, that was wishful thinking, as it only provided a temporary balm. Swiping a hand through his long bangs to rub a hand over his head to clear it a bit more, Envi gave one final look over at Satanick. The devil’s face was almost serene, the tears that had been flowing down his face earlier now beginning to dry up. One lone drop still remained resting on the top of Satanick’s left cheekbone, and before Envi realized it, he had reached out his left hand to gently use his gloved thumb to brush it away, his knuckles slightly grazing Satanick’s pale skin. The demon tried to reason to himself that it was only to help his lord when he awakened; no tears should be seen when he finally stirred - whenever that would be.

Turning on his heel, Envi’s long ponytail swayed behind him as he made his way out of the room, his black dress shoes echoing off the hard flooring. As he approached the door – hand on the knob – Envi looked once more over his left shoulder around the devil lord’s chambers. The demon now spotted the device that had launched this chaos lying on the rug where Satanick must have dropped it. A few steps to back track himself was all it took for Envi to retrieve the gadget before finally heading out of the room, the clicking of the door shutting being the final din to speak out among the silence.

Ivlis let out a light moan as he slowly began to wake. His head felt a bit groggy, but that was per the usual – he never found himself to be the morning person, after all. As his senses began to come back to him, he could feel the soft bed underneath his back, and his fingertips reinstated that fact as they brushed across the cool sheets. Ivlis finally was able to crack open his eyes, needing to open and shut them a few times to stave off the heaviness. As he did so, the canopy above him began to come into focus with those familiar purple curtains.

Wait, purple?!

Ivlis’s eyes finally fully widened as he sat himself upright, some of the fog dissipating from his mind. He felt the presence of someone near him and immediately jumped with a gasp. He expected to see Satanick next to him – which he technically was – except that Licorice was in the middle.

“What the –?!” Ivlis called out, not holding himself back as his mind immediately started racing with a million questions.

He could understand being in Satanick’s bed, but what he could not figure out was why Licorice was there in between them. Trying to even imagine an explanation only made the flame devil’s head hurt, and he did not want to have to deal with that while simultaneously dealing with this beyond strange wake-up call.

Ivlis’s cry must have startled the others, as he watched Licorice and Satanick both open their eyes. From the way they also looked, Ivlis could see they were just as tired and confused. This was further spurred on when Licorice turned immediately to his right to look at Ivlis, clear bewilderment and embarrassment on his face. “M – Mother!” he gasped out, as if trying to compose himself from his slumbering state. “What’s wrong?” Clearly Licorice had not quite seen the problem with this situation, or so Ivlis assumed.

Hearing Mother’s yell immediately woke the young man with a fright to be sure. Licorice could see the surprise and almost disgust on Ivlis’s face, and it only further confounded the boy. Was Mother sickened by him having turned into his adult form? That was most likely the cause, right? Licorice knew he had the tendency to come sleep with Mother in his child form, but having turned into that of his older form must have startled Mother. It left the boy feeling a bit ashamed that he might be the reason for this. “I – I’m sorry, Mother,” he stammered out. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”

All Ivlis did was steadily raise his right hand to point his claw-like finger behind the boy. This only caused Licorice to raise an eyebrow at this before rotating to see the beaming, child-like grin of his father. Now it was his turn to cry out in amazement. “What in the –?!” Licorice immediately sprang up from the bed, whirling around to face his parents.

Just what was this?!

Satanick seemed to be the only one there without any qualms over such a strange scenario. In fact, he seemed to be pleasantly thrilled with the outcome. “Awww, did you both come over for a sleepover? That is so sweet of you, boys!” The devil lord wore that signature grin of his as he practically beamed with joy.

So, it seemed even Satanick did not exactly recall why they were all in this predicament. Did Mother really bring them over here last night? Licorice pondered. He could not be mad at Ivlis for long, then; if Mother had really done so, then it must have been for a good reason. Still, something nagged at the back of Licorice’s mind as to why this was even a possibility. Even Ivlis looked quite perplexed and embarrassed about such a suggestion, his cheeks already becoming pink and the tips of his hair a fiery orange blending in with his usual red.

“I – I don’t remember any of this!” the flame devil stuttered out as he glanced back and forth between Satanick and Licorice. Was he seriously losing his mind that he could not remember such an obvious thing? If he had visited Satanick, he would surely recall this, right? Yet for all that Ivlis could recollect, he could not figure out how or why they had wound up side by side. The only logical conclusion he could come to was that it must have been Satanick’s own doing if not his own.

Whatever the truth was, Ivlis did not care at the moment. All he could feel at the moment was pure humiliation that he had to wake up in such a state. Of course, waking up alongside either of these men was nothing new to him, but to have it be so blatantly obvious with all of them there was a bit unsettling.

Licorice must have been feeling something similarly, as his own cheeks were beginning to burn a bit in embarrassment. “It must have been his doing,” he practically growled out, casting a disapproving look towards his Father. “You brought us here, didn’t you?”

Satanick’s giggling did not help his case despite his words. “Lico, Lico, I would never lie to you.” He kept that cheerful grin across his face as he smiled back at his son and then towards Ivlis. “I don’t remember you visiting me, but I sure am glad you did. I love family time together!”

If Ivlis had not already been embarrassed, he certainly was now at those sentimental words. Ivlis scurried off the bed as quickly as he could, soon realizing he did not even have his shoes on, nor his jacket. He really must have come over in the middle of the night with Licorice, then; perhaps the boy had another nightmare. But why would he have brought him over to Satanick of all people?! Ivlis did not want to imagine that he was becoming so reliant on Satanick for even minor things like this. “I – I’m going home,” he mumbled out.

“I’m coming with you, Mother.” Licorice immediately joined in with this statement, reaching out to lightly yet firmly grip Ivlis’s right hand in his. “Let’s go.”

Ivlis did not protest or say much in regards to Licorice eagerly wanting to leave, yet he still found himself looking back over his left shoulder towards Satanick. The man was still perched on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. His arms draped over his legs as he slouched forward, but he soon raised his left hand to wave at Ivlis when he noticed those golden eyes once more on him. Ivlis naturally felt his heart skip a beat when Satanick’s gaze met his own, yet he could not be sure if it was out of agitation or something more.

He supposed that the rest of his day would be filled with these cumbersome musings as he tried to sort through the cacophony of emotions that filled him. Satanick soon faded from his gaze as both Licorice and himself began to leave the room in their typical fashion.

Once the two had fully faded in a cloud of black and flame, Satanick found his grin still stretching across his lips. He stared at the empty space where his lover and son had been, turning his head to the right to see the imprint of their bodies still among his sheets. The devil lord flopped backwards into the warmth of the sheets where he had been sleeping, his eyes still traveling the creased spots. It had only been a few minutes ago, but he found himself reminiscing on the blushing faces of his little family. Both had been blushing for different reasons, yet Satanick found both shades of reds and pinks to delight his heart. It did boggle his mind how such a thing actually occurred – surely he would have remembered Ivlis coming over with Licorice the night before – but Satanick decided not to question the unknown. After all, it must have been fate for them to have arrived. Such a warmth filling his chest was most likely a blessing, and he would not take this for granted; any time with those he cherished would be valued.

Satanick hummed to himself as he walked along the corridors of his castle. The rest of the day had been as equally cheerful as he performed his ruling duties. Every denizen that he passed seemed to notice the drastic shift in his mood, though none said a word about this to him. Of course, anytime Satanick was in such a depressed state, no one ever dare mention how he suddenly would come out of them; they would leave it as is, happy to finally see that the rain and gloominess had finally lifted from the world. For others, they were – at the very least – relieved to see their Devil Lord up and about with a smile on his face.

The demon mindlessly fiddled with the flowers that were in a vase that was perched on a pedestral in the hallway. Hearing his lord, Envi could not help but watch as Satanick chatted and teased others that traversed by. It truly was as if nothing had ever occurred. 

No one would ever know…. 

Such a feeling left Envi feeling a bit disillusioned. He would never bring up the events from the past few days, lest he trigger some sort of adverse reaction from Satanick. The demon would rather die than risk such a thing harming his lord. Instead, he silently kept this inside. The turmoil of seeing Satanick once more in his jovial attitude certainly made Envi relieved, but he could not help but feel out of sorts knowing that all of this was caused by that messy little family of his. It was no secret that Envi did not approve of Satanick’s choice of partners, but that was once more not his place to say such things. He would refrain from doing so. In the end, all he wanted to see was Satanick happy and well. Even if this happiness was built on a fabricated reality, Envi would keep his mouth shut and his thoughts locked away.

Envi blinked a few times as he now saw Satanick approaching him, that cheerful aura still radiating from him. The devil’s black cape with the red lining swished around him as he came closer to Envi. His dark hair was once more straightened out in his usual messy manner, and his face was no longer marred with tear streaks. The goat demon gave a nod of his head in reverence to the man. “Sir, good morning.”

“It certainly is, Envi,” Satanick called out in a chipper voice. He kept coming closer and closer to Envi, and the demon was a bit taken aback that he had yet to stop in his steps.

He soon realized why this was the case when Satanick reached out and pulled his subordinate into a tight embrace.

Envi’s eyes widened as he felt the arms of his lord wrapping tightly around him. This was something completely unexpected yet not unwelcome. He felt his lord’s right arm squeeze gently yet firmly around his waist as his left hand gripped onto Envi’s left shoulder. Even Satanick’s face nestled into his right shoulder was the most exhilarating yet freezing sensation Envi had experienced.

“S – Sir?” Envi stammered out. “What…is this?”

Satanick pulled back with a smile. “I simply felt the need to give you a big ol’ hug.” He said it so matter-of-factly with such a grin that Envi stared back at him in surprise. The devil lord shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Don’t ask me why, but something inside told me to." He placed the tips of his right fingers over his chest, as if to further ennuciate the words with his action. "So I acted upon it. That’s not a problem now, is it, Envi?” Even with the over-the-moon air about him, Envi could not deny that such a statement held a commanding tone to it. Yes, this was certainly the Devil Lord; nothing would ever change that.

“N… No, Mr. Devil,” Envi replied. “Not a problem at all.” He swallowed back the bit of saliva that had gathered in his mouth from his momentary freeze-up. He tried to keep his composure so the devil would not notice his accelerated heartbeat and slight shaking in his nerves.

Satanick offered his faithful follower another smile, though this one seemed a bit more… pained? Why was that? Soon, that slight discomforted look faded as Satanick once more continued down the hall, his shoes echoing off the marbled tile until they faded off. Envi turned to look over his right shoulder, no longer seeing Satanick around. He could not help but let out a somewhat shaky sigh as he tried to reason if his lord was truly, completely well.

Envi had confiscated that contraption of Satanick’s, hiding it away back in the dungeon where a multitude of similar inventions had been discarded over the years. He had debated about simply destroying it or choosing a more obscure place to stash it, but even that seemed too risky to the demon. He honestly had no idea how such technology worked or what Satanick could have used to build such a device; tampering with it could very well have destructive results. That was a risk Envi was not willing to take; enough of them had already been achieved.

However, the demon could not help but fear what lie on the horizon. The day might be bright and beautiful outside the glass window panes, but inside, Envi felt a storm brewing. Who was to say if the effects of such a spell would ever wear off? Would the past events come flooding back to these devils? What would the ramifications be if and when that day occured? Such a possibility filled the man with such a dreadful feeling that he almost felt nauseated.

Quickly shaking his head, Envi did his best to stomp down these intrusive thoughts. Wondering about the “what-ifs” was only going to further escalate the rainclouds over this murky swamp of his emotions. For now, he would resume his usual duties.

For now, he would faithfully serve Satanick until the end of eternity and through the muck of such a screwy family.

For now, happiness was restored.

Envi turned on his heel to follow the trail that Satanick had taken. His lord surely had not gotten too far as he could hear his joyful decibels echoing down the corridor.

Yes.

Even if it was a fake happiness, Envi would accept it with all his being if it meant his lord would continue to smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that I have taken so long to bring a conclusion to this story! Forgive me for that. I hope that it is a somewhat satisfying one, despite the contents of lingering anxiety. XD 
> 
> I originally wanted this series to be one of pure drama, "what-if" scenarios, and the feelings of nerves throughout the story. I hope I was able to achieve that in some fashion. Part of me is a bit "meh" about the fact that I did not fully conclude with Ivlis's or Licorice's perspective on what occurred, but in a way, I suppose it is open to interpretation that all has returned to "normal" - that the two are their usual selves of loving/hating Satanick while Satanick continues on with his usual qué será, será attitude. In a sense, I wanted things to return to "normal," but with the impending dread of, "What if the "spell" breaks?" Sooooooo, yeah. XD
> 
> Anywho, I really hope you enjoyed, and I thank you all for your patience with me as I jump around the several series and oneshots that I am preparing. Thank you, thank you! I love you all! :D <3


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